Sirens
by Riddelly
Summary: Craig and Tweek's relationship is at its most painful and abusive, and the night it changes, for better or for worse, will have a huge toll on them both. Creek. Warning: character rape. Rated M for language and sexual references.
1. Exposition

**A/N **_Here it is: my first fanfic written for South Park. It does have abusive Creek, JUST so you know... don't yell at me for it... ;n; I'm not trying to imply that rape is good, because it's not. The chapters will be a variety of lengths. This is a shorter one. I've finished the story already, so I'll be getting chapters out at a steady rate of one a week. Apologies for any OOC-ness, but it's a tad necessary. It'll take a few chapters to get cranking, but once we're at about 8, things'll be moving along quite smoothly. Also, you'll notice that this is a sort of mutant story: half in "texting" format (here, specifically Gmail chat) and half in traditional. It's interesting, IMHO. We'll see what you think. And you'll review to tell me. Won't you? By the way, this was based on an RP between me and a friend (deviantArt's SouthParkDoodles), so credit for the storyline (as well as Craig and Tweek's online dialogue) goes to her._

**Rated M **_for language, violence, and sexual content that isn't actually that bad_

**Disclaimer **_I don't own South Park or any associated characters, events, etc. _

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><p><strong>S.<strong>_**t.a.g.e **_**1. ****(**[[**{**_e._x._p._o_.s._i._t._i_.o._n**}**]]**)**

**4:08 pm**

**July 30****th****, 2011**

**South Park, Colorado**

_Hiiii_

Craig Tucker scowled at the ridiculously stretched-out word on his computer screen. Who was bothering to try and chat with him now? He was due to be at Tweek Tweak's house in mere minutes for some odd sort of… what was it? A family birthday party? What kind of family celebrates its own birthday? Did they all have the same one? Maybe that would explain part of Tweek's twitchy oddness, if his whole family shared a single birthday. No, scratch that—it was all the fault of his intense overexposure to coffee.

Sighing with annoyance, Craig's eyes traced the bolded name in the blinking orange chat box. _Bebe. _Of course. She'd been pestering him near-constantly ever since he and Tweek had declared themselves a pair. Of course, Bebe had always stuck around with Tweek, but her overprotectiveness could be seriously annoying. He considered logging off just to avoid her, then checked the time. He'd have a moment to talk to her a while before heading over to the blonde boy's house. Shrugging internally, he typed in a quick response.

**Me: **_Hello_

**Bebe: **_sup?_

What was up? Tickling his guinea pig, Stripe, behind the soft pink ears, he replied one-handedly.

**Me: **_Nothing really. Petting Stripe_

**Bebe: **_ah_

Might as well turn the irritating question on her. But, at the very least, he could phrase the inquiry fully, instead of using that ridiculously stupid-looking "chatspeak."

**Me: **_what are you up to?_

**Bebe: **_Chatting with a friend_

_I'm not your friend, _he thought disgustedly, a moment before he realized that, quite possibly, she hadn't been stating the obvious and actually meant a_different _"friend."

**Me: **_Who?_

**Bebe: **_as a matter of fact…_

**Me: **_What?_

**Bebe: **_A certain blonde spaz._

_Tweek. _Craig swallowed involuntarily and sat back from the computer, holding Stripe to his chest and rocking him gently, focusing on the fuzzy little lump of warmth rather than the haunting that the name released on his mind. Things between him and Tweek, his former best friend, hadn't exactly been going well lately. Well… not well at all, one could say.

_Don't think that, _he thought at himself angrily, nestling the guinea pig in his lap and leaning forward to type again. _You're doing nothing wrong. If he wanted to report you, he would. But he won't. He's too weak._

_Or too scared…._

**Me: **_You're talking with that dildo? Why, might I ask?_

**Bebe: **_**shrug **__Why not?_

Craig's eyes widened. Why not? What a stupid question. Feeling a bit better, he smirked slightly while dashing out a response.

**Me: **_Because_

_He's kind of annoying_

**Bebe: **_hm…_

He exchanged a few brief bits of entirely useless banter about whatnot with her, typing with his elbow while replacing Stripe in his cage. The little guinea pig squeaked with indignation as the door of painted metal bars clicked shut with some slight shuddering.

"Sorry," he whispered, his lips brushing against the thin bits of white-coated wire. Stripe's only response was to shuffle around a few wood shavings and take a piss.

Grinning faintly, Craig turned back to the screen. Not bothering to read the last thing Bebe had written, he posted his excuse and tapped _Enter._

**Me: **_I am due to Tweek's house for this weird Family Birthday Party. Gotta run. See ya._

**Bebe: **_enjoy…_

As he thought of Tweek, of his skinny, shivering body, unwillingly spiked blonde hair, and constantly wide, innocent eyes, the grin widened until his whole face was a part of it, cheeks stretched, teeth gleaming, eyes narrowed with sick anticipation.

**Me: **_Oh, don't worry, I will _:)

Her response to his layered vow was a small, winking green emoticon. She still thought of it as some sort of joke. She didn't realize how much it really hurt Tweek, mentally and physically, nor was she aware of how much it _helped _him, Craig… deciding to test her naïveté, he dropped one last, painfully heavy hint.

**Me: **_I already know what I'm having for dessert…_

_Okay_

_Bye_

**Bebe: **_heh… bye_

Shaking his head with exasperation, Craig snapped shut the laptop lid and turned on his heel, practically dashing out of the room.


	2. Expository Aftermath

**A/N **_I said that the chapters would be several different lengths, as is shown here: Chapter 2 is significantly longer than 1. ^^ Hopefully, this is good news. It's true what SouthParkDoodles says: this story _does _get better later on, much better, in my opinion. Well, you'll just have to wait and see for that, won't you? *evil laugh* Review/comment, please?_

**Thanks to **_ObanesHarvest on ff, as well as Rease-Hunter, beautysavedthebeast, and HeBurntTheWaffles._

**Disclaimer **_I don't own South Park or any associated characters, events, etc. _

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><p><strong>S<strong>_**tage **_**2. ****([[{**_e._x._p._o._s._i._t._o._r._y—_a._f._t._e._r._m._a._t._h_**}]])**

**8:15 pm**

**July 30****th****, 2011**

**South Park, Colorado**

_YAAAAY!_

The loud beep that accompanied Bebe's trying to chat with him scared Tweek Tweak out of his wits. He jumped in his chair with a faint squeak before his gaze zeroed in on the blinking _Bebe says…_ heading on the internet tab he had open to Gmail. Breathing heavily, he clicked—then clicked a few more times, before his cheap mouse registered the movement and opened up his email in the window.

**Me: **_what?_

**Bebe: **_you're online!_

Indeed, he was online. After a rather… frightening encounter with Craig, he had retired to the upstairs computer, unwilling to face any of the several relatives mulling about downstairs for the time being.

**Me: **_yes_

_People are still invading my house!_

He added this last line on a whim. Perhaps she could help him out here. After all, she had talked him through some rough spots before.

**Bebe: **_yipes_

**Me: **_And…and…they're eating my food! D:_

_We have TOO MUCH food_

_b-but-nnrg—Craig and I…_

The jitters that assaulted him when he spoke aloud somehow managed to wind their way into his typing, as well—partly due to shuddering hands and partly to the fact that he himself was too familiar with his none-too-average speech pattern to alter it when Gmail chatting, even for the sake of it appearing coherent to the other end.

**Bebe: **_TOO much food?_

He could practically hear the amused sarcasm in her voice, though he hadn't heard it all summer—she was in Texas, and had been for a while, while he remained in Colorado.

She was still typing.

_Yeeeeees?_

She wanted to know. About what he and Craig had done. With more than a reasonable number of glances around the room, he fearfully hammered at the keyboard, as though getting down the words quickly would somehow result in a smaller chance of the dark-haired boy seeing them.

**Me: **_Well…_

_GAH_

_Okay_

_So_

_Erm…_

_w-we were bored…_

**Bebe: **_okay._

**Me: **_We both—nnnnrghhh—were wanting dessert…_

_Although_

_He had a different idea of what I had for dessert_

Just the memory made Tweek draw his legs in tighter and press his elbows protectively against his chest. To think what would happen if, right now, Craig were to come bursting in that tightly shut door…

**Bebe: **_ah._

He felt tears well up in his eyes as he scrambled to get the words down—every last little detail, for it seemed important that she knew _exactly _how it had gone about.

**Me: **_I just wanted one of those ice cream sandwiches that we had downstairs in the refrigerator…_

**Bebe: **_But you got something else._

**Me: **_y-yeah._

**Bebe: **_are you okay?_

_Was _he okay? No, of course he wasn't. And yet, for a moment, he was assaulted by an insane urge to dismiss the whole thing, to say it was okay, as long as Craig enjoyed it. As long as Craig enjoyed it… what he felt didn't matter… but he didn't say so. She would just get angry at him, anyways, and say that he was acting out of fear, bother him about how immensely pathetic that was.

**Me: **_N-no not really…_

_Why do you ask?_

**Bebe: **_aw…_

_I take care of chu?_

Assuming that 'chu' was some sort of endearing way that she said 'you'—he seemed to remember a similar phrase appearing before when he was chatting with her—he responded as quickly as the keyboard, easily as low-quality as the mouse, would let him.

**Me: **_YEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSS_

**Bebe: **_**patpat**_

**Me: **_I… he… people are still in my house_

In his house, and making such a racket downstairs that he had to focus his hearing to concentrate on whether anyone was approaching the door to the room he was in.

_I'm alone, _was her prompt response. _Watching some lame-ass legal drama thing…wait…_this _is the famous Law & Order? It sucks!_

He ignored that last bit for the time being, having really no opinion on the quality of _Law & Order, _himself. Besides, he didn't want her distracted from the situation at hand. He needed help, and if he was going to give in and let himself get it, he had to take as much as he could.

**Me: **_I… I wanted to, though…_

_He didn't force me_

_b-but it was so…_

**Bebe: **_that's good_

**Me: **_;n;_

A small, frightened, crying emoticon—all to appropriate, and all too similar to how Tweek himself looked right now, with his eyes red and face tearstained, curled up in his padded swivel chair, bitten-nailed fingers curled desperately around the edges of the thick keyboard.

**Bebe: **_it was so what?_

**Me: **_it was… like…_

_I—I get scared with this kind of thing._

_No matter if we were alone or with people still in my house._

_I normally begin crying because he is… sort of abusive…_

A huge understatement. There were bruises throbbing over his whole body, and, whether or not he was initially willing for it all, he had screamed for Craig to stop when it got too intense—and, of course, he hadn't. If that didn't qualify as rape… but, no, of course it wasn't rape. Simply because… it was _Craig_doing it, and… well…

**Bebe: **_aw_

**Me: **_now my stomach hurts_

**Bebe: **_:\_

**Me: **_And I am afraid someone downstairs heard us, which is more than likely…_

**Bebe**: _ah..._

**Me**: _because not only is he slightly abusive but...he's like...rough if that makes sense?_

_**blushes**_

_I'm sorry_

**Bebe**: _it does, it does_

_**pats again**_

_where is he now?_

**Me**: _Down stairs_

**Bebe**: _okay_

**Me**: _m-my stomach hurts..._

His stomach did, indeed, hurt, with a sort of rolling nausea that would usually have him lying down on the cold tile of the bathroom floor, retching. But he was psychologically glued to the chair. If he got up, then he'd have a chance of running into Craig, not to mention he'd have to tear himself away from Bebe's consoling. And… as the two scenarios collided in his mind, a new and ultimately horrible one was born. If Craig saw, here, that he'd been chatting with her, telling her about… everything, then… the things he'd do to Tweek….

No, he wouldn't be leaving this chair, that was for sure. But, just in case the sourness in his throat was something serious, he hooked his socked toes around the corner of the plastic garbage can under the desk and pulled it a bit closer to himself. You could never be too safe. That was a fact deeply embedded in his chaotic mind.

"Tweek!"

He leapt several inches into the air as the door creaked open. Bebe was still saying something—the words were dashing across the screen, something in all capitals, hopefully it wasn't important—and he hurried to, hand shaking, open a new tab. His palms were sweating and his head buzzing when he finally turned to face whoever had come in.

_His parents._

The little spike of relief was ridiculously short-lived, for he soon saw the matching serious expression that was painted across both of their faces.

"Now, Tweek," his father began. He had a low, soothing voice that seemed to draw in customers like a hook, but, right now, nothing could calm the blonde boy. He just shrunk back further, one hand's white-knuckled fingers still wrapped around the edge of the keyboard.

"W-what?" he yelped, quivering as they took a couple of tentative steps forward.

"I know that you're a growing high school boy, but there are some things we need to talk about." As the words issued from his mouth, Mr. Tweak slowly held up what was a clearly used condom, pinching it with the very tips of his fingernails.

"We don't use condoms!" he blabbed, letting go of the keyboard so that he could push himself farther away from the disgusting object. Seemingly, he and Craig weren't the only people at the party who were getting rather out of hand. Though they were all relatively close family… well… odder things had happened in South Park.

"Tweek—"

"We—argh—we didn't!"

"We heard noises," his father sighed, dropping the condom in the very trash can Tweek had been near puking in. "It was your friend Craig, wasn't it?"

Tweek was petrified. Utterly and completely petrified. He scooted yet closer to the wall, until his head accidentally knocked against it. His whole body was shaking absurdly. "I—I—"

At that precise moment, there was a crash from downstairs, followed by a sound rather like vomiting and a cry of "RICHARD!"

Tweek's parents froze, looked at each other, then at the floor, as if they could see through it to the scene below. "Tweek," his father began again, looking pained.

"_RICHARD!" _The puking noises came again.

"Just don't do it again!" his mother begged as the two of them whirled around and started down the stairs towards what was now surely a chaotic party.

Tweek's breath came out in a shaky stream, his mind spinning with the closeness of his shave. If his parents had really made him talk about it, if he had revealed… and Craig had found out….

An insistent beep from the computer reminded him that Bebe was waiting for him. Shaking, he scooted back up to the keyboard and began to type, each little _click _making him flinch.

**Me: **_oh god…_

**Bebe: **_sry_

He hadn't even read whatever she'd been screaming about.

**Me: **_Nn-no, it's not you…_

_Erm_

_I'm not quite sure what to say here…_

**Bebe: **_whatever you need to._

A relieved _thanks _burned in his mind, but he didn't waste any words with it.

**Me: **_o-ok then. Well, nrg, my mom & dad just came up stairs & turned to me, asking me if… well...me & Craig were...you know..._

_they said they heard things_

_;n;_

_I am, nrg, MORTIFIED!_

To say the least. Mortified and terrified, because if Craig knew that his parents suspected that… that…

**Bebe: **_ah._

Was that all the usually helpful girl had to offer tonight? "Okay" and "ah…" _This isn't helping me! _Tweek thought frantically.

**Me: **_this is horrible I KNEW it was a bad idea...he said he has been thinking of it all day...d-did he mention he was going to do it at all?_

_To you?_

_I—I was chatting with him online right before he came over_

_& because he was online, maybe he was talking to you…?_

**Bebe: **_oh, he was, but he didn't mention anything :\_

**Me: **_ok…_

**Bebe: **_not that I remember_

**Me**: _i-i am sorry if i am complaining too much i don't wanna anymore if it's bothering you ^^^;_

**Bebe**: _it's fine._

**Me**: _o-ok then i am almost done_

_so, anyways...i-i think he is using me...but i don't wanna tell him that_

**Bebe**: _using you how?_

**Me**: _..._

_using m-my..._

_b_

_body_

**Bebe**: _okay_

**Me**: _I_

_Don't_

_actually think he loves me_

**Bebe**: _do you love him?_

_Do I love him? _Tweek thought of all the pain Craig had caused him, the torture, so that he'd avoid him by any means at school, so that he'd do things like hide out in a small room, shivering, messaging a person he didn't even know, desperate for help… and then the other things came to mind… how his heart leapt whenever Craig gave up and smirked, or even smiled, a hint of his white teeth showing between perfectly curved lips, eyes shining with genuine happiness… it was so rare that he showed human emotion, but… when he did…

**Me: **_w-well…_

_Yeah_

_I do love him_

_But I don't think he loves me_

**Bebe: **_Okay… and tell me why exactly you think this?_

**Me: **_Because he always… he always wants sex…_

**Bebe: **_okay._

**Me: **_yeah._

He sat there, on tenterhooks, waiting, for the half second that _Bebe is typing _was the newest line in the now green chat box. Then her words flashed out, one after another, in reassuringly solid black print.

**Bebe: **_I'm assuming you haven't told him._

_here-_

_you're small._

_you're skinny._

_if he was going to use someone physically..._

_I doubt he'd choose you._

_No offense intended._

**Me: **_well… I would assume he LIKES small skinny boys… he used to like Kyle_

**Bebe: **_hm_

**Me: **_and he's small and skinny_

**Bebe****: **_well_

**Me****: **_i i don't wanna tell him..._

**Bebe****: **_he used to LIKE Kyle, you say_

**Me****: **_y-yeah why?_

**Bebe****: **_so then it's only logical he'd like YOU. not just your body, unless he just liked Kyle's body...what I'm saying is, the pieces don't fit._

_bodies don't single people out_

_so..._

Tweek frowned slightly, still throwing glances at the door. What was she trying to say? He tapped away at the keyboard in an attempt to explain better.

**Me****: **_when we were only friends he used to say "Kyle's got a hot body" the two of them never talked..._

**Bebe****: **_okay, I see. so..._

**Me****: **_i-i don't know i may just be being paranoid..._

**Bebe****: **_I don't know_

_time will tell_

**Me****: **_but whenever he comes to my house, or i go to his, or we go to the movies or something, he is always asking for me to give him a hand job in the bathroom, or at home, all he wants is...you know... in the theater at the movies he always wants to makeout & he rarely says "I love you…"_

His chest ached just thinking about it.

**Bebe: **_Hm_

_Well…_

_I don't know what to say_

**Me: **_well, when you talk to him, does he say anything? Be honest._

_Tell the truth._

**Bebe: **_Well…_

_He doesn't say much anything._

_about...anything._

_last time, he told me he was petting Stripe._

_once, he said that he was working hard to take care of you... to protect you from your fears..._

**Me: **_has he ever called me...annoying?_

_That's sweet...how long ago was that?_

**Bebe: **_Around… April, maybe?_

**Me: **_the only reason i am wondering is because at school he tells me in his exact words "Shut the fuck up you annoying spaz"_

_& then he walks away_

**Bebe: **_Aw…_

**Me: **_So I'm just wondering… if he says anything behind my back_

**Bebe: **_I doubt it_

**Me: **_I hope not…_

Then he saw something on the left side of his screen. Something that made his eyes stretch wide and his heart leap violently into his throat. He struggled for breath through a storm of _nnghs _and _erghs, _the small green dot seeming to burn a hole in is corneas. The small green dot, meaning 'available,' next to the name…

Frantically, shaking, he managed to type in the essential words, the words that she had to know.

_GAH he—he's online…_

_You talk to him._

_I will wait…_

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	3. Turning Point

**A/N **_Stage 3. Voila! I don't have much to say here, but... a review would genuinely make my day. Please?_

**Thanks to **_ObanesHarvest again. ^^_

**Disclaimer **_I don't own South Park or any associated characters, events, etc. _

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><p><strong>S<strong>_**tage 3. **_**([[{**_t._u._r._n._i._n._g—_p._o._i._n._t**}]])**

**8:46 pm**

**July 30****th****, 2011**

**South Park, Colorado**

_Yo_

Craig glanced up at the cheery _beep _from the computer as, yet again, she appeared to come and chat with him. He gritted his teeth in disgust. Could she try, just _try, _to leave him alone for one goddamn second?

Apparently not.

**Me: **_what?_

**Bebe: **_What's up?_

**Me: **_Nothing._

It was true. Nothing was up whatsoever. He'd heard Mr. and Mrs. Tweak's suspicious mumbling about a half hour ago, and decided that it was time to get the hell out of there, before they decided to confront him (though he figured that they wouldn't have, even if he'd decided to stay—he struck a rather imposing figure that made an impression on everyone, adults included). So he had headed back to his house, given Stripe a hasty stroke, and flipped on the laptop, to find _her _there, all ready to bother.

_Sitting._

_I left the party a while ago._

**Bebe: **_hm._

**Me: **_I don't think the squeaky one noticed._

**Bebe: **_How did things go with Tweek?_

**Me: **_How do you mean? It was fine. We talked._

_Nothing really happened._

A pure lie, but it really was none of her business, after all. He could do with Tweek what he wished. They were the ones in a relationship, after all. She was just… there. Tweek's old friend. Craig wondered if, this time, he ought to log out of Gmail to escape the annoyance of her pestering him, then decided not to. What was to be gained, anyways? It wasn't like he had anything better to do.

**Bebe: **_Yeah. Huh._

**Me: **_Why do you ask? Huh what?_

**Bebe: **_I just know that things between the two of you have been… well, let's be blatant: sexual lately._

_Thought something might've happened._

**Me: **_Where have you heard that?_

His face was starting to heat up. Tweek, the tattling bastard! Yes, he'd dropped _hints _to Bebe, of course he had, how couldn't he? But something beyond his smirking implications had been a factor here. It was obvious—Tweek had told her. He had gone and given up and told her….

Spotting the fact that the skittish boy himself was online, Craig twitched his fingers across the pad, preparing to confront him. His index finger had just hit CAPS LOCK when the girl entered another line.

**Bebe: **_? Kinda hard to miss…_

_I doubt anyone does._

_People have told me._

_People you know._

_They notice things._

**Me: **_Who?_

**Bebe: **_Let's not name names?_

_I didn't know you were keeping the relationship a secret_

_But they noticed_

**Me: **_Wait… relationship?_

_Are you talking about…_

**Bebe: **_You know what I'm talking about. Let's just say…_

His fingers couldn't type fast enough. Fury was coursing through him.

**Me: **_I am going to pound his face in! I told him not to tell!_

**Bebe: **_Some people have seen you two on 'dates.'_

_It wasn't him, don't worry._

**Me: **_No! I know it was that little motherfucker!_

**Bebe: **_South Park is a small community, Craig. People notice things._

_And why do you call him a motherfucker?_

_Don't you like him?_

_Nah, nvm._

_I won't push things on you._

Push things on him? Craig didn't even try to figure that out. He was typing furiously into Tweek's chat box, screaming, spouting out all his feelings of anger, and of… well… betrayal. What they had was supposed to be a _secret! _It was supposed to be just between them….

**Me: **_No, not never mind!_

**Bebe: **_okay, then. How does it work?_

_The truth's out. Tweek didn't tell._

_No use denying anything._

_So, do you hate him or something?_

That psychological blow was more than a little bit painful. No, of course he didn't _hate _Tweek. If he hated him, then he wouldn't enjoy his time with him so much. He managed to ignore the tiny voice in the back of his mind pointing out that, seeing as what he _did _with Tweek in their time together was hardly unique to the individual, this was irrelevant.

**Me: **_Who said I hate him?_

**Bebe: **_Nobody! It's just that you called him a motherfucker…_

**Me: **_Your point? He is one._

**Bebe: **_That doesn't seem very… loving._

**Me: **_Or, he CAN be one… so?_

**Bebe: **_I should hope… well, he's a good guy._

A fresh wave of fury rolled through Craig's body, and he vented some of it by screaming a bit more at Tweek before responding to her. For the latter, he chose his words carefully, coldly, wanting to get his message to her to _fuck off already _across.

**Me: **_You don't know him the way I know him._

**Bebe: **_I don't. But I've been a fairly close acquaintance for yaers. And I know that he's not bad._

**Me: **_yeah, whatever_

**Bebe: **_so you don't like him._

**Me: **_Meah, mixed feelings._

That was true enough.

**Bebe: **_And yet you two are still involved._

**Me: **_Well, he's cute. Small, skinny…_

_**shrugs**_

**Bebe: **_mmm._

**Me: **_What?_

**Bebe: **_well…_

**Me: **_Are you implying that I don't like him?_

**Bebe: **_He loves you._

This time, it was like someone had physically socked Craig in the chest. He choked on the air in his own throat, staring blankly at the screen, and then slowly relaxed back into his chair upon realization of how stiff his back muscles were. _He loves you. _He did, didn't he? Yeah. He said it on a regular basis. Even when he was afraid, even in the midst of him screaming _stop, it hurts_—still, he would say that he loved him. _Always. Always, he says he loves me._

Almost reflexively, he included none of this emotional overload in his brief response.

**Me: **_I know he does._

**Bebe: **_So… that doesn't mean anything to you?_

Of course it did. Of fucking _course _it meant something to him. Hell, it meant everything to him. It was what kept him from completely losing himself, when he saw Tweek trembling, whimpering, his whole body bruised, begging, _begging _for him, Craig, to back off….

**Me: **_**shrugs **__Should it?_

**Bebe: **_Yes. Yes, it should._

_Don't you CARE about anyone?_

_Do you have any emotions at all?_

His eyes and throat were burning, now, but that didn't matter. The magic of the internet, of communicating with written words, was that you could put up whatever façade suited the mood, and whoever was on the receiving end would be none the wiser.

**Me: **_Yeah, I do. I know he loves me._

**Bebe: **_You know. But do you love him back?_

You know. But do you love him back? Eight words, two basic, simple sentences, the more important of the two being a question. What a stupid question, too. How was _he _supposed to know if he loved Tweek? Should he turn around and check to see if there was a cupid arrow stuck in his ass? Gritting his teeth, he typed the response stiffly, making sure to capitalize and punctuate perfectly, to increase the mask of iciness he was pulling over his online persona.

**Me: **_Why should I tell you?_

**Bebe: **_You shouldn't. But you should tell yourself._

**Me: **_Tell myself what? That it's so easy to get sex out of him?_

**Bebe: **_Whether or not you love him!_

**Me: **_Look at it this way:_

_He's small._

_He's retardedly skinny._

_He love me._

…

_So?_

**Bebe: **_So, give him some RESPECT! If you care about him, show it! If you don't… show it!_

**Me: **_Why should I?_

**Bebe: **_BECAUSE HE'S A PERSON, TOO!_

**Me****: **_I think of him more as a "toy" if you will._

**Bebe****: **_People. Aren't. Toys._

**Me****: **_This one is!_

He was lying to himself, of course he was. But… what was the good in the truth? It wasn't like it would help anyone. He used Tweek like a toy; why not call him one?

**Bebe****: **_would he say that?_

_would he call himself a toy?_

**Me****: **_Nah, probably not._

Definitely not. _He may not call himself a toy… _Craig thought with a hint of guilt prickling at the back of his mind, _but he'd probably call himself something like a servant. Or a tool… yes, maybe a tool… something for me to use, yes. But not to play with. At least _he _understands that I need him, that I'm not just putting us both through all this crap for… for fun…._

**Bebe****: **_then he's not._

_seriously._

**Me****: **_I got this guy wrapped around my little finger._

_like, really? He will give me handjobs in the fucking bathroom if I ask!_

_It's awesome_

**Bebe****: **_Yup, he will. Because you terrorize him._

**Me****: **_Nah, I don't believe it._

He _couldn't _believe it. Couldn't make himself face what was quite possibly the truth. Tweek had said, before the first time, that it was okay. He had said… anything to help Craig… anything….

**Bebe****: **_Would you believe it if you heard it from him?_

**Me: **_Maybe. I don't know._

He couldn't… couldn't look reality in the eye. It was much better to agree that they both enjoyed it, or at least were okay with it. So much better.

_I think he does some of this stuff for attention_

**Bebe****: **_Part of your email address is "Tweek." Next to Stripe. I know you love Stripe..._

Yes, it was "." Well, at least there was an easy explanation for that, an explanation that implied nothing deeper.

**Me****: **_Yeah, because he was my best friend._

**Bebe****: **_He was._

_But have you ruined that with rape?_

It wasn't rape! He wanted to scream this, to take the computer and shake its high-resolution screen and yell at the top of his lungs that it wasn't rape, that_it wasn't rape! _Hands trembling ever so slightly, he stayed composed as he entered his reply.

**Me: **_What do you mean?_

**Bebe****: **_You've ruined any chance of a friendship. Now you can have a loving relationship, or nothing._

_or fear._

_That's not true, _he promised himself hollowly. She didn't know a thing. She didn't understand love—no, of course she didn't. She had no way to fathom how these things worked. She was taking shots in the dark, and they weren't hitting anywhere near on target. _Or are they?_

No. Of course not.

So he typed another lie, because what good was the truth, really?

**Me**: **smiles** _oh yeah...he screamed like a bitch..._

_what do you mean CAN if he doesn't even want to be friends anymore?_

**Bebe**: _you can't be friends!_

_you can't!_

_you've even taken a huge step forward or one back._

**Me**: _What do you mean?_

**Bebe**: _You've either perfected things, or ruined them!_

**Me**:_ I don't think I have done either, honestly._

**Bebe**: _this is your CHANCE, Craig._

**Me**: _Chance to do what?_

**Bebe**: _What you have to do is love him._

_or else... the end._

Those words—_the end—_sent a pang through him so torturous that a tiny groan escaped his lips. No. Whatever happened, things couldn't end. _Things couldn't end. _This—this shit was what was keeping him _alive! Why _couldn't she comprehend any of this? She didn't understand how he needed Tweek. _What you have to do is love him…_

**Me**: _How could I?_

**Bebe**: _if you can't, then what you have to do is end it._

**Me**: _I mean, c'mon, we're talking about TWEEK here, right? Yeah... not so much... he's just a little bitchy spaz... that's afraid of his own shadow._

_he thinks his shadow is gonna rape him __**snickers**_

He wasn't really snickering, of course not. But since when did online personas perfectly reflect the actions of the people behind them, anyways? Since never.

**Bebe**: _and why does he think that?_

**Me**: _I don't know…_

**Bebe**: _because his best friend did._

It wasn't rape…! But she wouldn't understand that. No use explaining.

**Me**: _yup_

**me**: _You, who practically WERE his shadow._

_It's not that far from the truth._

**Me**: _How the hell was I his shadow?_

**Bebe**: _you were always there, always by him, always ready to... be there..._

_and then you turned on him._

_even if you were always a bit cold..._

_you were his friend._

_always._

Yeah… yeah, he was. But that was another time. A different time. Things weren't the same, then… There was no going back now, after all. And he never 'turned on' Tweek. Tweek had _agreed _to what Bebe called rape. He had said that it was okay. He had _said so!_

**Me**: _How did I turn on him? Is it because he "turned me on?"_

**Bebe**: _You BETRAYED HIS TRUST!_

No! No, he didn't! _I didn't! _Still, he wasn't telling her. He couldn't tell her the reason _why _he needed Tweek so badly. It was none of her business. None of her goddamn business.

**Me**: _So?_

**Bebe**: _so...so that means that he has nothing to hold on to now._

**Me**: _Yeah he does! My DICK! __**Laughs**_

It _hurt, _to write like this, to feign uncaring. To pretend that Tweek didn't matter to him whatsoever. But it was his only option. Unless he wanted to tell her about… but, no, that wasn't happening.

**Bebe**: _But you're not the goddamn rope! you're the fucking abyss!_

_you're what he's falling into now!_

**Me**: _That's good._

**Bebe**: _until he hits the ground._

_then there'll be nothing more to get out of him._

_He'll be gone._

_Done with._

_Finished._

_Fucking dead, for all you'd care._

For all he cared? Tweek was his fucking life! Tweek was _everything _to him. Tweek wouldn't be dead to him until he was to everything. And by then, if the world was fair at all, he, Craig, would be dead, too.

**Me**: _How will he be finished? Whenever someone or something bothers him he comes to me and complains or freaks out. That's all he does. So I use him. Because honestly, if someone loves you THAT much, you must make at least a little fun of it, am I right?_

**Bebe**: _not if you understood it..._

_you're a thousand times more immature than he is._

**Me**: _yeah, right!_

**Bebe**: _Yeah. Right._

**Me**: _He's always screaming about those gnomes, or how he needs more coffee... he's always twitching, & like I said before, he's afraid of his own goddamn SHADOW!_

**Bebe**: _He understands love. The closest thing you've come to loving is your fucking GUINEA PIG._

He tensed again, breath slowly sliding through his teeth in a low hiss. The closest thing… he wasn't _close _to loving Stripe. Stripe was… he reached over involuntarily to poke his fingers through the cage's bars. The little animal scurried over and grasped the tip of one with its little pink feet, nibbling gently at the nail. Boiling, Craig gave Stripe's foot a light squeeze before retreating and typing out his reply.

**Me**: _I love my guinea pig to PIECES!_

_if you make fun of him, I will fucking slash your stomach open!_

**Bebe**: _Then imagine he was an actual person. And he used your body. And he didn't care about you._

It was such a ridiculous concept that Craig was tempted to laugh. Stripe? Using _his _body? Where did she pull these things out of?

_Or, alternatively… say you had those feelings for someone else._

_Someone like Tweek._

_and say those feelings developed soon..._

_right when he realized how much reason he had to hate you._

_because that's quite possibly what's going to happen._

That one struck a good deal closer to the mark. He instantly began to type, reassuring himself as well as pushing back at her.

**Me**: _I'm bigger than him, I'm stronger than him, & a whole lot more persuasive. I could get him to do ANYTHING for me out of his desperation._

**Bebe**: _Now, you could. But there are people in the world who are bigger and stronger than you, too._

_you could be arrested for what you've done._

_locked up_

_medicated, even_

**Me**: _What exactly have I done that's so wrong?_

**Bebe**: _You've raped your best friend._

_and, yes, I have proof_

**Me**_: I dunno if I would call it rape...hey, you sat there, a bystander & told him "it's not rape if you both like it."_

That, at least, was true. Tweek had been video chatting with her on his iPhone when it happened that once, and though it had been knocked to the ground almost immediately when things heated up, she'd still been there, hearing everything, and even getting glimpses, occasionally. And she'd done nothing the whole time. Commenting when it struck her to. Even _eating popcorn _at one point, as if the rest wasn't disgusting enough.

**Bebe**_: yup, I stood by. And THAT is how I now have an audio recording of it, which I could use against you in court._

**Me**_: But why didn't you do anything?_

_You're just as badass as me_

_you just WATCHED_

_pathetic_

**Bebe**_: no matter what I'd done, it would have happened again._

_but if I stayed and recorded it?_

_solid evidence._

_Come on, you didn't think I'd really just stand there, did you?_

**Me**_: Actually, I kind of did. You were laughing._

_**shrugs**_

**Bebe**_: I'm a good actor when I need to be._

**Me**_: I don't think you care about him at all._

**Bebe**_: I learned plenty of things that night, Craig_

**Me**_: like what?_

**Bebe**_: that I wouldn't have if I'd gone against you_

_like that you raped him_

_that he begged you not to_

_and, the next day, that he loved you after all that._

_But, whether he deemed it 'okay' or not, he was still protesting._

**Me**_: your point?_

**Bebe**_: Well, in the bluntest way possible, what you did that night was highly illegal. Aaaaand... if you don't plan to change that, I plan to stop it._

**Me**_: Sure. Good luck with that._

Seconds passed, that slowly stretched into minutes, and still, no _Bebe is typing _appeared. Finally, he typed in a reluctant line.

_Hello?_

**Bebe: **_I have my own life to deal with, too, Craig. But rest assured—I'll be back to talk to you, and soon._


	4. Meanwhile

**A/N **_Another shorter chapter, this one. A chapter full of Tweek freaking out, because that's what he does, isn't it? XD _

**Thanks to **_o__nce more, the fantastic ObanesHarvest! I'd say you're motivating me to write this, only I've actually already written it all out, so... I'll just have to settle for a million thanks. I'm flattered that you're enjoying the story so much!_

**Disclaimer **_I don't own South Park or any associated characters, events, etc._

* * *

><p><strong>S<strong>_**tage 4. **_**([[{**m._e._a._n._w._h._i._l._e**}]])**

**8:49 pm**

**July 30****th****, 2011**

**South Park, Colorado**

_I am kind of scared…_

Tweek typed in the words reluctantly, seeing as he didn't necessarily want to reveal weakness, even in these moments, when it was practically what he was made of. But Bebe had helped him, in the past, kind of. He could trust her not to mock his tentative honesty.

**Bebe: **_Don't be._

As if it were that easy. The long silence that stretched on afterwards meant that she and Craig must be talking. He swallowed, gripping his elbows with the opposite arms and rocking gently back and forth. What if Craig got angry at her? But, no, he couldn't possibly get to her—she was far away, in Texas right now, in fact, on vacation. Craig had no way to get from Colorado to Texas. Plus, they didn't know exactly where she was staying. That meant something, right?

_But if he can't hurt her… what if he hurts me?_

After several minutes of the awful prospect haunting him, a quick line of text from Bebe's side appeared.

_Hey, you haven't gone into a coma or anything, have you?_

**Me: **_N-no…_

**Bebe****: **_good_

**Me****: **_what's happening?_

**Bebe: **_tension_

Tension with Craig, in the past, had often ended in violence—for him, at least. His eyes closed lightly as he recalled the pain of those hands, those strong hands all over his body, his neck, shoulders, hips….

**Me****: **_oh no_

_don't piss him off...he tends to get very...physical when angry..._

_he likes to...hurt things_

**Bebe****: **_lock your doors tonight, that's all I can say_

_I'm working on things, buddy__**hugs**_

Lock his doors? _Lock his doors? _Craig couldn't come. If Craig came… if he came for him… his fists curled tighter, and a faint whimper issued from his mouth. If Craig came for him, he didn't know if he could stand it, if he could stand the pain. Would he just die, if things got too bad? Was that possible? Could his body just… give up? He'd blacked out before. It happened rarely, but it did. That was one way of escaping. But was it possible that his body system would recognize that this couldn't stop, that the only thing to do was end it forever, to not wake up?

Probably not. Because, as well as something to die for, Craig was also something to live for. Always.

Just as these thoughts were dashing through Tweek's mind, a second chat box caught his eye. It had gone completely unnoticed before, as he'd been utterly intent on conversing with Bebe. But this was someone else.

It was _him._

Refusing to answer the second box, he demanded answers of his more trustworthy correspondent.

**Me****: **_what did you DO?_

_h-he's trying to chat with me now...he seems pissed D:_

**Bebe: **_what's he saying?_

**Me****:**_ ..._

_he just said "TWEEK!" in big letters...then he says I'm going to pay..._

The prospect chilled his spine. He didn't want to pay. Every cell of his body was positive that he did _not _want to pay. It screamed not only in his mind, but in the aching of his thighs and lips, his chest and more sensitive areas, too.

**Bebe****:**_ huh_

**Me****: **_i-i don't wanna pay i am too sore..._

**Bebe****:**_ it's okay, I'm working on things_

**Me****: **_o-ok_

_..._

_be careful or he will hurt you next_

**Bebe: **_I'll be careful, don't worry_

**Me****: **_ok_

He didn't want him to hurt her, either. She hadn't done anything. She hadn't said it was okay, unlike him… something that he cursed himself for every day. Why had he allowed Craig to do such a thing? But no, anything to help him. It made Craig feel better. And that was what mattered. No matter the cost… as long as Craig was okay… he could deal with his own emotions, they didn't matter, they didn't matter. He could deal with them himself.

It was a slight shock that he recognized it had been several minutes since her last words to him. So he hastily typed in a hurried inquiry, as to assure himself that Craig hadn't somehow gotten to her already.

_what is happening?_

**Bebe****: **_well..._

_I'm not sure_

What did that mean?

**Me****: **_oh god...ok, well keep talking to him. I will just wait_

**Bebe****: **_I will._

_still okay?_

**Me****: **_mhm, my body is just sore but i am hanging in here ^^_

The last bit, the little happy emoticon, pained him to type, but it was better if she didn't worry. Much better.

**Bebe: **_good._

**Me****: **_h-how is he?_

**Bebe****: **_...again, not sure_

_I'm sort of yelling at him_

**Me****: **_oh god...be careful __**hug**_

**Bebe****: **_**hug back**__ I will_

More time passed. What was it now? He glanced at the computer clock. Nine forty-five. All at once, an awful, sickening lurch rippled through his stomach as he remembered a conversation with his parents earlier.

_Later on, things will probably be getting a little more adult, so we'll be moving over to your aunt's house for that part, all right, Tweek? We want you to stay here, you'll be fine for the night, right?_

_Yeah…._

_Okay, good. We'll probably clear out about nine-thirty. We'll have our cell phones…._

Listening keenly, Tweek realized instantly that it had happened. His parents were gone, along with all the rest of them. His head began to spin, black spots dancing before his eyes, and he let out a sort of vague, high-pitched groan-whimper. She had told him to lock his doors… it was doubtless.

_He's coming._

_Craig's coming._

**Me: **_h-how is he now? Is he angry or just being stubborn?_

_h-hes yelling at me through chat..._

**Bebe****: **_**sigh **__I'll get back on it. hang in there._

**Me****: **_o-ok_


	5. Rising Action

**A/N **_I'm shocked if this isn't the shortest chapter of the lot. Sorry, folks. And for those of you getting sick of the chatspeak and pure emotional tension, just hang in until Stage 9, I implore you, because that's where it gets good. Good as in Craig-and-Tweek-physical-content, yes. Patience. It was great to see a couple new reviewers this time around, too! Yes, Bebe is behaving rather passively, I'll confess. My excuse for this is that she's trying to stay calm for Tweek; both of them panicking means nasty business. Take it or leave it. ;) _

**Thanks to **_ObanesHarvest, as per usual ^^, as well as TheAwesome15 and our other anonymous reviewer- though your message was brief, it's great to see that people even read this story!_

**Disclaimer **_I don't own South Park or any associated characters, events, etc. _

* * *

><p><strong>S<em>tage <em>5. (**[[**{**_r._i._s_.i_.n_.g—_a._c._t._i._o._n**}**]]**)**

**9:48 pm**

**July 30th, 2011**

**South Park, Colorado**

**Bebe: **_so_

Ah, so she was back. Excellent… not. Craig rolled his eyes. She had needed time to say goodnight to her grandparents, apparently. It was so casual. She probably didn't realize exactly how intense of a night she was going to be experiencing from the other end of the computer. He did plan to keep correspondence with her, of course, so that she might get a grip on what his relationship with Tweek was really right, and how she'd really never be able to do a thing about it.

He'd recovered from his earlier bout of sensitivity. It was ridiculous. Tweek deserved what he was getting, deserved it for the simple crime of being so easy to use. If he wanted otherwise, then he oughtn't say that he didn't mind. It was counterproductive, he thought with a rather oily smirk.

**Me****: **_so...? what_

**Bebe****: **_any big revelations while I was gone?_

**Me****: **_& I should tell you why?_

**Bebe****: **_figured out how to treat the boy who loves you?_

_oh, for GOD's sake_

**Me****: **_No_

_I haven't_

Why should he treat him any other way than he did? Even if he thought Tweek needed any better—_and he doesn't, he doesn't—_there still wouldn't really be any way to change things at this point. What was done, was done. Their relationship was as solid as if it had been carved in stone.

**Bebe****: **_it's easy._

**Me****: **_I think I am already treating him pretty fairly_

**Bebe****: **_if you can't return his feelings, and I realize that, then I go to the police with that recording._

_You wouldn't. _The words flew out from under his fingertips, sat there for a moment, then disappeared as he slammed down on the 'backspace' key. He couldn't appear weak, that would only tempt her all the more. Still, he couldn't deny that the prospect of police was most… undesirable. What if they took him away? Away from Tweek?

**Me****: **_You don't know_

_the boy's a slut_

**Bebe****: **_IS he now?_

**Me: **_so easy to use it's not even funny_

**Bebe****: **_that doesn't. fucking. matter._

_Yeah, okay, then it's to the police, right?_

_because this is out of my hands now._

_No, no, no. _He couldn't let her do that, he couldn't. _Stay casual… _but what if she did? What if they took him away? _I'd break out of jail, _he thought firmly. _Anything so that I could stay with Tweek. I won't let them keep me from him. _

**Me****: **_Nah._

_It's a recording_

_not a video_

_you could have used voice manipulation_

**Bebe****: **_I could have. But Tweek will serve as a witness..._

_won't you?_

As the chat box jumped and the heading changed to _(3) Bebe, me, Tweek, _he imagined the words as they appeared before him. So predictable that he could practically hear them, in that high-pitched, jumpy voice, that voice that he'd heard moaning with pleasure and screaming for mercy—those two often within seconds of each other.

**Tweek****: **_w-wait..._

_why am I here?_


	6. Preface to Confrontation

**A/N **_Okay, here's something longer for you. Hopefully, you'll enjoy it? I feel like we're just biding time until the actual confrontation... noting the name of this chapter, it won't be much longer. Hm. I feel like this Authoress's Note should be longer, somehow, but I suppose there's nothing else to say, except hang in there- the good chapters are coming soon!_

**Thanks to **_SparklesMakeMeHappy_

**Disclaimer **_I don't own South Park or any associated characters, events, etc. _

* * *

><p><strong>S<strong>_**tage **_**6. ****(**[[**{**_p._r._e._f._a._c._e—_t._o—_c._o._n_.f_.r_.o._n._t._a._t._i._o._n**}**]]**)**

**9:50 pm**

**July 30****th****, 2011**

**South Park, Colorado**

Why _was _he there? She said, he thought frantically while checking the line of text that opened the box, that he would act as a witness to something. But what? Was she expecting him to stand up to Craig? Because, if so, she was going to be sorely disappointed… standing up, defending himself, was one thing so utterly implausible that the very idea of it was near-humorous.

**Craig****:**_ ah..._

**Bebe****: **_you're here because it's time for you to stand up for yourself._

**Me****:**_ ..._

Exactly what he'd been dreading. Well… she couldn't make him do it. It didn't matter all that much, anyways. Why was he getting her involved in the first place? It was stupid…

_c-craig did...craig did nothing wrong_

**Craig****: **_see?_

**Bebe: **_Don't pull that._

_stfu, you_

**Me****: **_I'm not pulling anything!_

**Craig****: **_He's speaking truth_

**Bebe****: **_Yes, you are. Tweek. __Listen__ to me. You're fucking up your life!_

_It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter, _Tweek reminded himself frantically. It was _Craig _who was important here, what Craig wanted, what Craig needed. _I don't matter. I'm irrelevant. _

**Craig: **_No he's not_

**Bebe: **_Yes. He. Is._

_Unless you can be the person that he sees in you_

As she typed, other words appeared in the second chat box, the one created solely so Craig could shout at him. He seemed angrier than before, if that was possible, carefully detailing exactly _how _Tweek was going to 'pay.' Desperate, he keyed in a plea to Bebe.

**Me****: **_Put Lilies Eat Apples Scarlet Earwigs… Happy Earwigs Lilies Put...More Earwigs..._

**Craig****: **_What the fuck are you saying, Tweek?_

**Me****: **_n-nothing_

**Craig****: **_you're fine aren't you?_

**Me****: **_y-yeah_

He hesitated before adding the next bit, but soon decided that it had to be said at some point. The debate couldn't be had without all the evidence out in the open. Besides, Bebe had to understand, as well… maybe it would help her comprehend his situation more exactly.

_Craig_

_I_

**Craig****: **_yesss?_

**Me****: **_i have something to say..._

**Craig****: **_& what __might that be_

**Me****: **_I...erm..._

**Craig****: **_go on_

**Me****: **_i love you?_

**Craig****: **_Very well_

**Me****: **_**heh**_

**Bebe: **_And he's just going to let it slide, because he can't even take you seriously._

**Me****: **_w-what?_

**Bebe****: **_he doesn't CARE!_

The word hit him as heavily as if she'd actually shouted it in his face. _He… doesn't… CARE! _But that couldn't be true. He _had _to care. Had to. Even if he had trouble showing it… but he'd been through a lot, Craig had, more than any of them—

A creak from downstairs echoed through the air, and Tweek froze like a deer in the headlights, a roar in his ears, his surroundings blurring, and seemingly his intestines, as well. If he was—if he was there, now… but, no, there was nothing else. It had been nothing. He knew that much was true, but it didn't stop him from typing a bit more slowly, pressing down on each chipped letter slowly, so that it would be silent, or at least more in that direction.

**Me****: **_yes he DOES!_

**Bebe****: **_he isn't affected by this! I need you to see this..._

_please._

**Me****: **_s-see what?_

_i don't see anything_

**Bebe:**_ see that... well... that, for now, he..._

_CRAIG._

_where the fuck are you?_

**Craig****: **_I am here, watching_

For some reason, the words seemed to have a double meaning… a chill sank through all the layers of Tweek's body, through his skin and muscles and ligaments, until it was in his very bone marrow, as if his skeleton had frozen solid.

**Bebe****: **_tell Tweek how you feel about him. Right now, in person._

_well...internet-wise._

**Craig****: **_tell him what?_

_that i love him?_

**Me****: **_y-you do?_

**Bebe****: **_only if you do._

**Craig: **_but I do__**sly grin**_

There, it was proven. A small, squeaky sigh was more coughed up than anything. He'd said he loved Tweek. Proof… as much proof as he, Tweek, needed. But her… she seemed to require something more.

**Bebe****: **_Then that means that you'll show it? Show that it's love rather than primal want?_

**Craig****: **_you're being difficult_

But as her words danced through his synapses, he realized with a small start that they didn't seem all that unreasonable, not really. _Show it. _Of course Craig could return to the abuse, if it was… what he needed…

_No, _he thought.

_No._

_I don't want that anymore._

He didn't want Craig to do this to him anymore, even if Tweek had given permission. He didn't want it, because it _hurt. _It hurt in every way that a human could hurt, and several that wouldn't have seemed possible beforehand. It hurt, and he dreaded it, he—he _hated _it so much, so damn much… no matter… no matter how much it helped Craig… he hated it…

**Me****: **_no she's not..._

**Craig****: **_yes, she is_

**Bebe: **_I'm being reasonable._

**Me****: **_she's not..._

**Craig****: **_yah she is_

**Me****: **_craig..._

**Craig****: **_what?_

**Me****: **_y-you need..._

**Craig****: **_I need WHAT?_

_tell me Tweek_

**Me****: **_you..._

**Craig****: **_c'mon little bitch tell me_

_haha_

**Bebe: **_You tell him, Tweek__**hugs**_

Support and bullying, in equal measures. _They cancel each other out, _he told himself. He could just keep going ahead as if nothing had happened.

**Me****: **_you...you need to stop..._

**Craig****: **_stop WHAT?_

**Me****: **_just...stop_

_please?_

**Craig****: **_Don't push it boy_

**Me****: **_you..._

He remembered those words. _I am here… watching… _and, just like that, his resolve completely shattered. It didn't matter if things hurt. He, his feelings, didn't matter. _I'm so stupid. _As fast as his fingers could move, he continued to type.

_don't need to stop anything...i am just kidding i am fine_

**Bebe****:**_ Listen to him. (note that I now have a transcript of this chat, too, if it does come to the police)_

_and it looks like it will_

_All right, boys, great talking to you, but I have a phone call to make_

Police? Police would… they would ruin everything that was still intact! They'd take Craig away from him… tell his parents… would Craig be put in jail? Would they take Tweek to some sort of therapist, or even give him drugs, assuming that he was broken and needed to be fixed somehow, not understanding that this was _okay, _as long as it helped Craig? He wanted Bebe to work things out, but only if she could easily, if she could without paining either of them. A sudden idea came to him, and he began to hastily copy an old chat with Craig into a _compose mail _box, to type in the address of the girl who'd be receiving it… so that Craig didn't notice his absence back in the chat, he added a few frightened pleas.

**Me****: **_NO! don't do it!_

_Please!_

Hit _send... _and it was on its way…

_i-i have_

_Apples Near_

_Earwigs Mail Apples Izzy Lucifer_

_4u_

**Craig****: **_stop speaking in code goddammit i can't read it_

Oh, no, no… well… if he couldn't read it, that was good, Tweek supposed, but even the fact that he recognized it as a code… not that it wasn't painfully obvious, looking back… was a hazard; Craig was smart, it wouldn't be hard for him to figure things out…

**Me****: **_i-I'm not_

_i was having some sort of anxiety attack...I'm all good now..._

**Craig****: **_good_

**Bebe: **_okay._


	7. Backstory

**A/N **_Finally, FINALLY the last chapter before (in my opinion) things get interesting! And, surprise surprise, it's seriously fucking short. Ah, well. AT LAST, CRAIG AND TWEEK SHALL BE PUT TOGETHER. Like, in the same room-type together. Yippee. Can you wait? I sure can't, which is pathetic, seeing as I wrote it and can look back on it any time I want to- I'll just shut up now. I'm ranting._

**Thanks to **_Can'tLogIn_

**Disclaimer **_I don't own South Park or any associated characters, events, etc._

* * *

><p><strong>S<strong>_**tage 7. **_**(**[[**{**_b._a._c._k._s._t._o._r._y_**}**]]**)**

**10:08 pm**

**July 30****th****, 2011**

**South Park, Colorado**

**Bebe: **_this is between you and me now._

_Listen to me, Craig._

He didn't _want _to listen to her. He'd been listening to her for the past two hours. It was getting rather exasperating. At some point, she'd have to realize that it was useless. It was useless. Tweek had _given him permission _to do what he did. And with reason… perhaps he ought to tell her… if she knew, would she lay off?

**Me****: **_what?_

**Bebe****: **_I'm done with threats. I'm done with beating around the bush._

_Here are the facts, plain and simple._

_He is in love with you. No matter what. Right now, this moment, he is._

_Could this change? Probably._

_If you love him back, you won't let it change._

_And the way to not let it change is NOT to use him._

_It's to love him back. Like you would a friend, or a family member, or even Stripe._

_That's all I can say for you._

_If you want him, then stop fighting it._

**Me****: **_haha, he's obsessed with me_

That was the easiest mask to hold up to his distraught face. The slightly idiotic, practically psychopathic boy who couldn't care less… yes, that was certainly an easy, if painful, card to play. But every one of her completely reasonable words was like a blow to his carefully maintained icy exterior, until it was trembling near the shattering point. Something was solidifying in his mind. Even now, he knew what he'd have to do. But that didn't mean he couldn't deny it a little longer.

**Bebe****: **_Stop playing, okay?_

_This is it._

_The game is over._

_Time to make your last move._

Admit it to her, that was what he had to do. The knowledge of how it would all end—and _that _it would end, tonight—could propel him forward, give him the energy to make her understand. So at least she wouldn't hate him so completely when it happened. She'd see that there had been something more to him.

**Me****: **…_I don't know what to do though_

_There is no other way_

_I can't just change_

**Bebe: **_not immediately, no_

_Gradually_

_Gradually, yes_

Gradually? _Gradually? _What a joke. No, there was no gradually. This was it. Within hours, it would all be over. This truth was a beautiful, soothing thing, which let him tell her the rest of it, the most essential bits.

**Me****: **_Common sense would say that i am doing this out of no choice...i act the way i do to HIDE things! do you get it? When i was little I was, was, I was abused!_

**Bebe****: **_okay._

_Then you don't need anger. Like it or not, you need somebody._

**Me****: **_I like what i do to him._

**Bebe****:**_ He. Doesn't._

**Me****: **_It feels better_

**Bebe: **_I know it does. It's easier. Simpler. But it's not going to be able to save everything. If you and he really manage something, I promise it can._

**Me****: **_i-i can't wait for tomorrow..._

**Bebe: **_Why not?_

**Me****: **_i have to go...NOW...i have to..._

_Now, now, now _was when it had to end. He couldn't sit here, typing, any longer. The first stage of his cold but logical plan had to be put into motion. It was time.

**Bebe****: **_Okay. And, Craig?_

**Me****: **_his parents are out of town_

**Bebe****: **_...__good luck._


	8. Happy Earwigs Lilies Put

**A/N **_God, these chapters seem to just keep getting shorter and shorter. Nnrgh. Well, this one makes up for it by being the gateway from the so-so part of the story to the awesome part of the story... at least, I see it that way. It's all fun and games from here on out, folks... and by fun and games, I mean, well, love and blood. Yippee. Just hold it out one more week before the chapters get longer and better! _

**Thanks to **_NightmareMyLove_

**Disclaimer **_I don't own South Park or any associated characters, events, etc. _

* * *

><p><strong>S<strong>_**tage **_**8. ****(**[[**{**_h._a._p_.p._y—_e._a._r._w._i._g._s—_l._i._l._i._e._s—_p._u._t_**}**]]**)**

**10:05 pm**

**July 30****th****, 2011**

**South Park, Colorado**

**Bebe: **_feel up for explaining?_

There she was, in a third chat box. Neither of the others had a thing going on in them any longer, so he obediently attended to her.

**Me****: **_explaining what?_

**Bebe: **_your little...code over there __**jerks head to the right**_

**Me****: **_the FIRST one said Please Help Me_

**Bebe****: **_okay._

**Me****:**_ the second one said Email_

_4u_

**Bebe: **_I see._

_thx_

**Me****: **_read it_

The silence after surely was that of her looking through it. Through everything that had gone back and forth between he and Craig—the threats, the pleas. But what he hoped she saw was the undercurrent to it all—not something that could be found in the specific words, but rather something about Craig's tone, a sort of… _characterization _of him, a flavoring that hinted at something else, something more hopeful… something that explained how Craig wasn't all bad.

**Bebe****: **_thanks. for showing me. __**hugs**__ don't worry, we can do this_

**Me****: **_I-I don't wanna_

_I don't wanna be there_

_I can't_

_did you read the email?_

_He's ALL I have..._

_no matter the abuse..._

_I love him_

A few minutes passed there, while Tweek pondered the truth of the words. _I love him. _He did love him. He'd loved him for as long as he remembered, even as he feared and hated and despised him, he loved him. He loved him. Everything about him—his dark hair, his monotonous, nasally voice, his coldness, the way that he always flipped off anyone to cross him—or to cross paths with him, really, he wasn't picky. As these thoughts and seconds whizzed by, there was still nothing from Bebe. Presumably, she was chatting with Craig. He carefully checked this.

**Me****: **_i-is he ok?_

**Bebe: **_Depends on your definition_

**Me****: **_what do you mean?_

**Bebe: **_Things are certainly progressing. Are you chatting with him?_

**Me****: **_no..._

_what is he saying?_

**Bebe: **_okay._

_I think he might be... well... I need to be over there…_

**Me****: **_my parents left for my aunt's house...is there something i should be worried about? i am all alone now..._

**Bebe****: **_Not for long..._

**Me****: **_ok_

Then he really processed her words, just as he heard the key in the lock a floor below, and his blood seemed to boil. His head buzzed, his stomach dropped, and it was only the sharp _crack _of his head against the edge of the table that stopped him from slumping to the ground in a half-faint. Weakly, as the point of impact on his skull throbbed in time with the footsteps on the stairs, he managed to type in a few last screams.

_wait..._

_wh-WHAT THE FUCK?_

_NO NO NO NO PLEASE!_

_PLEASE!_

**me****: **_Hold on. Just breathe._

Couldn't breathe. Head spinning. Out of control.

**Me****:**_ WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE IN TEXAS?_

_WHY AREN'T YOU HERE_

_HE'S IN MY HOUSE_

The door opened, and there he was, standing at his full height, a furious smirk twisting his lips, eyebrows drawn meanly together below a mess of black hair, twirling the key given to him years ago between his thumb and forefinger.

"Why, hello, there," Craig Tucker purred, advancing.


	9. Faux Climax

**A/N **_We're here. Finally, FINALLY, we're here. Yay, I'm all excited now... so. Review. Please, please review, because the chapter and the six more that follow it are certainly my favorites. This one's nice and long, as well, so dig in. I won't keep you any longer!_

**Thanks to **_ObanesHarvest, SparklesMakeMeHappy, and NightmareMyLove (of course I had to thank you! XD And look, I am again :P)_

**Disclaimer **_I don't own South Park or any associated characters, events, etc. _

* * *

><p><strong>S<strong>_**tage **_**9. ****(**[[**{**_f._a._u._x.—_c._l._i._m._a._x**}**]]**)**

**10:17 pm**

**July 30****th****, 2011**

**South Park, Colorado**

**Bebe****: **_Just hold on._

"Aw, come on, you're such a pussy," Craig snickered, pausing halfway across the carpeted floor. "But then again… you always have been, haven't you? Oh, dear…" His voice was a sarcastic drawl. Tweek remained utterly frozen, his face an awful waxy color, eyes fixated on Craig. "Go on, then," he laughed humorlessly, "ask your little girlfriend for help. I'd like to see what she's gonna try and do. Nothing can save you now, Tweek… you're mine…"

Well, he certainly wouldn't turn away as open an allowance as that. Hands shaking horribly, he quietly tapped in the letters, the words, explaining, describing, begging.

**Me****: **_he looks angry..._

_please_

**Bebe****: **_tell me your address. now._

**Me****: **_4589 black street South Park CO_

"All right, enough time… enough playing. C'mere, now, little spaz."

_I_

_he's..._

**Bebe****: **_okay. if something happens...bash the keyboard with your elbow, if that's all you can do. I'll call for help. Okay?_

Craig lunged, and Tweek threw himself back, hitting the keyboard not with his elbow, but whole body.

**Me****: **_idhgsndl s assahsabnl,mdjasasd_

_kusjhsdah;kfhbagha_

_jb ;vasjdghdskgdadhf_

_bhgjknjhmbbnhnjmhbnjmhnmj_

_nm nm m,nmjnhjbbnhmjnjmh_

His head hit the table, and his senses rang dark for half a second. Then he became aware of Craig looming over him, leering, but his head was now aching in two places, and stars were swimming before his eyes. His head lolled dazedly as Craig gripped his shoulders and threw him to ground. Everything hurt as his body slammed into the thin carpet heavily, and he lay there, a fog seeming to overlay all of his senses, feeling ready to vomit. Time seemed to be moving oddly, so he didn't notice the hesitation while Craig stole a glance at the computer screen.

**Bebe****: **_Okay. Okay. I'm calling._

_CRAIG TUCKER, DO YOU HEAR THAT?_

Craig looked over at Tweek, lying semiconscious on the ground, eyes half-closed and stirring feebly, then returned to the keyboard to quickly ask exactly what she might be talking about.

**Me****: **_Hear what?_

**Bebe****: **_I AM FUCKING DIALING THE NUMBER_

**Me****: **_I don't care._

_This is my last night with him_

It was his last night. That was the first part of his plan, the indulgent part. He'd allow himself a last night, one last night.

Tweek saw the blurred form of Craig turning to face him again, and he let out a weak whimper of protest, turning his head away. Then he felt the rough hands grasping his shoulders, pulling him up so fast that his neck screamed a painful protest before tipping forward. He let it hang, blinking slowly in a pathetic attempt to clear his vision. But then Craig caught his chin between his own long fingers and tilted it upwards, so that Tweek had nowhere to look but into his dark, passionate eyes.

"This is it, pretty boy," he breathed, voice so soft, though it still rang in Tweek's ears—everything seemed to be ringing. His breath managed to worm its way down Tweek's throat, tickling it, aggravating it. He moaned, but not before Craig took a handful of his hair and pulled their faces together with all the ferocity he possessed, so that Tweek could feel his lips bruise instantly. Craig laughed, and bit down on Tweek's bottom lip until it bled, then licked up the blood, and, pushing the smaller boy back so he fell to the ground again, forced his tongue deeper into his mouth, curling around the edges of his teeth, slamming into the insides of his cheeks, going too deep, until Tweek retched faintly.

**Bebe****: **_And what's going to happen after? _

_why is this your last night?_

Her words, and the little flash of orange that topped the chat box, went unnoticed by both of the boys, who were now sprawled on the ground, Craig on top of Tweek, still forcing their lips and tongues among each other. His hands, however, were freed, to curl around the top of the other's collar, even as he kneed at his crotch, letting out a pleased sigh as he felt Tweek's cock harden below his rough prods.

"There you go, pretty boy, that's it," he gasped between ferocious kisses, "but don't go thinking that you'll be using that, because you won't, that's my job…" He tore at the front of Tweek's shirt, so that the uneven buttons popped and went flying across the room, one of them hitting the corner of the computer screen, the pixels of which instantly went different colors, branching out from the lines of impact like a spider web.

"I forgot about your little girlfriend over there," he rasped against Tweek's throat, biting at the soft flesh for a moment before continuing. "Should we go and see what she's up to?"

Tweek barely heard the words. He felt detached from his body, from every shock of pain, though he still dully recognized that he was screaming. His only response was another low whimper, at which Craig laughed near-hysterically.

"All right, pretty boy." Tearing off the rest of Tweek's shirt, he gathered the skinny boy up to his chest, pressing his face to his own throat as he rose to his feet. "It's like in a fairy tale," he hissed into the mess of spiky blonde hair as he half-carried, half-dragged him over to the computer. Every bit of his body was screaming in protest at having to wait, but he wanted to drag things out this last time, make them last as long as he could, and he knew that meant extending the period before climaxing. He had to use this time. "It's like I'm the gallant old prince, carrying the little blonde, fainting princess. Pretty accurate, huh? Only this time, it won't be _happily ever after._" His voice cracked at those words as their truth coursed through him, and he pinned Tweek to the table again, glaring at Bebe's latest message and typing with one hand.

**Me****: **_I know it's over._

_I know i have to go to the cops now._

**Bebe: **_Okay._

Lifting his hand from the keyboard, he used it to pull his shirt up and over his head, throwing it hard across the room and pressing up against Tweek, his muscular chest pushing against the other boy's bony one, sliding in a few more hungry kisses. He looked up for half a moment, almost brightly excusing the long pauses between their text-speech.

**Me****: **_Sorry it's really hard to fuck & type at the same time_

Tweek groaned again. The pain was getting farther away… he felt as though he were falling… how bizarre, how…

**Bebe****: **_**sigh**_

He started to return to Tweek, this time reaching for his waistband, then noticed that he seemed to have completely fainted, lying limply against the wooden desktop. Scoffing, he shoved him to the floor with an elbow. He hit it in a crumpled heap. Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Craig returned to the keyboard.

**Me****: **_anyways._

**Bebe****: **_Are you hearing the sirens yet?_

**Me****: **_i wanted him to know_

_that even though i abuse him, even though i make him do things he doesn't wanna do..._

He thought about Tweek then, about the boy lying unconscious at his feet… about how, no matter what, through everything, he'd stood by Craig, supported him, given him all he had… always, ceaselessly, devoted…

_I love him_

**Bebe****: **_..._

_okay._

_Okay._

_Then it's done._

_You've lost, and yet you've won..._

**Me****: **_I'm gone now._

**Bebe****: **_But when you get out of prison, which I'm sure they'll put you in..._

**Me****: **_I just wanted him to know...that..._

Craig fell to his knees then, doubled over, bracing himself against the ground with his forearms and palms, fingers stretching over the carpet, digging into it. His eyes burned. _That all this time… I wanted you to know…_

_Tweek, I wanted you to know…_

He made his way over to where Tweek lay sideways, eyes closed, breathing shallowly, and positioned himself carefully, tenderly, laying the blonde boy's head in his lap, touching the side of his pale face, resisting the urge to do what he wanted to, to tear off his clothes and soothe his body's desires rather than his heart's.

But he wouldn't. This last time, he wouldn't.

"Tweek," he whispered brokenly, unaware of the throbbing tears that were inching hotly down his cheeks. His lips brushed against the other boy's ear. "Tweek… please… I—I'm so sorry…"

Tweek's eyes opened slowly, focusing on him, and his mouth opened in a fearful squeak. "C-Craig… don't… don't hurt me! Don't…" He was so small, so _beautiful, _eyes teary and face blotchily flushed…

"No," Craig gasped through weak, scattered sobs. "No… Tweek… never… I was so… so selfish… I can't believe what a—what a fucking bastard I was to you…" He wanted to kiss him, wanted to so badly, but he didn't. Instead, he gently supported his torso, and held that scruffy blonde head to his chest, rocking back and forth and moaning lowly, feeling Tweek's tears joining the thin sheen of sweat on his chest, and not caring about the sting of salt, not caring, not caring, because pain didn't matter right now, not physical pain, that he could handle… but this other pain, this horrible, stone-heavy thing in his chest… that was something else…

"The police are coming," he whispered roughly to Tweek. "They're coming for me, I'm—I'm so sorry…"

"I love you," Tweek mumbled, his voice muffled against Craig's chest.

"Tweek… oh, god, I love you, too, I love you, I swear I love you, no matter what, I love you, okay?"

Tweek seemed to be able to support himself now as he drew back, tears shining heavier than ever in his large eyes. "Y-yes," he choked. "I knew it was true… I knew there was something… even when you hurt me…"

**Bebe: **_he'll be waiting for you._

_And that's what matters._

The chat box flashed orange. Craig looked up. "Go tell her," he pleaded to Tweek. "Go… go tell her that I… that I…"

Crying. Crying like a fucking pussy girl, but he didn't care. He wanted to disappear inside himself. He hugged himself desperately as Tweek pulled away, and was barely aware of him limping over to the desk…

**Me****: **_ow_

_ok_

_so I'm leaning on the desk now...my body still incredibly sore..._

_he pulled back early..._

**Bebe****: **_are they there yet?_

**Me****: **_& now he's sitting on the floor crying..._

_i am normally the one who cries..._

Then he heard something, playing at the edges of his hearing, but growing steadily louder, until, by the time he'd fully registered the screeching wail, it was deafening.

_wait-_

Sirens.

They were here.

They had come to take him.

_YES I DUNNO HOW TO CALL IT OFF I DON'T WANT HIM TO GO TO JAIL!  
>I DON'T WANT HIM TO<em>

_i can't do anything!_

_they..._

**Bebe****: **_He'll have a case._

**Me****: **_I feel so exposed...i feel so helpless..._

**Bebe****: **_I can probably be there, if you want..._

**Me****: **_I DON'T CARE I CAN'T WAIT!_

**Bebe****: **_The formalities have to be gone through. After that...it's happened!_

_Don't you see?_

_You've done it!_

**Me****: **_I-i want to lay in bed with him i want to HUG him i want to VOLUNTARILY kiss him..._

**Bebe****: **_Yes!_

**Me****: **_i want to be with him right now..._

_i_

_i have never cried as hard as i am now..._

**Bebe****: **_Even with a little bit of sacrifice, even if you have to stay away from each other for a while..._

_you'll get there, in the end._

_you'll get there._

_no matter what_

_because you love each other._

**Me****: **_i don't want to stay away from him...he's all i had..._

**Bebe****: **_And you still have him_

_and now... you always will._

**Me****: **_i don't want to give him away for the littlest while..._

**Bebe****: **_Stay with him. All through it. Stay with him._

Shoving the keyboard away from himself, Tweek limped back over to where Craig sat sobbing, and reached up to his face, twining his trembling fingers through the silkiness of his black hair. "Craig… please…" he whimpered, willing the other boy to look him in the eye. "I—I n-need you to look at me! I need you, th-they're coming! P-please, just…"

But Craig couldn't face him, he couldn't, because if he did, he wouldn't be able to handle it anymore… without his permission, his head lifted, and he blinked away the veil of tears that separated him and Tweek, so that he could see him, see all of him—the bruises on his left cheekbone, where Craig had thrown him against the desk, the tear lines that traced grimy paths down his flushed cheeks, the swelling from a forgotten blow that rendered one of his eyes half-shut, the bite mark on his lip, from which blood still dripped sluggishly.

He was such a mess.

He was so _gorgeous._

"I can't," Craig gasped. Now his hands were the ones shaking as he reached out and lightly brushed them over Tweek's hair, not hard, only letting its spiky edges tickle his sensitive fingertips. "I can't let you go, I can't, I…"

"The police," Tweek wailed as the unlocked door downstairs creaked open. He threw his arms around Craig's neck and buried his face in his shoulder. He was crying, crying so hard… he could hardly breathe through the suffocating sounds.

Craig, who was also crying, though silently now, was at a loss. Tweek's shirt, though still unbuttoned, hung limply around his shoulders. Tenderly, he pulled it a bit tighter at the neck, then let his arms circle around the smaller boy, holding him tight and rocking him, wanting so badly to stay like that forever, forever…

But he'd arrived with a plan. And he wouldn't be leaving until it was complete.

_They have to think I'm raping him._

"I love you, I love you," Craig whispered harshly as footsteps sounded on the stairs outside. "I—I promise—I'm so sorry, but I have to…" Then he shoved at Tweek, as hard as he could, so that, shocked, the blonde boy landed sprawled on the floor.

"Craig, what—"

The stream of tears was getting heavier again. "I'm sorry, I'm _sorry, _but they have to think…" His words were cut off as he kissed Tweek on the mouth, as hard as he could, aggravating the bruises that had formed earlier, while positioning his hands so that it might look as though he'd only just torn Tweek's shirt. Squeezing his eyes shut, he made sure to savor that one, final kiss, drawing it out as much as he could, ever so slightly gentler than he would have been in true abuse, letting Tweek know that this wasn't really all there was to him, that he was doing this for the smaller boy's own good… his mouth tasted like coffee, no surprise—not anything exotic, just plain black coffee, like the two of them had drank together so many times, huddled up together in winter gear, blowing the steam off each other's cups… but that sweetly bitter taste was mixed with blood, blood from an injury that he, Craig, had inflicted…

The door banged open, and, after one last, long moment, Craig drew back and stood up, wiping away his tears with a sleeve and kicking at Tweek for good measure. "What do you want?" he asked the single policeman hoarsely.

The man's eyes were obscured behind dark glasses, but the cool fire in his attitude was all too apparent. He aimed a rather intimidatingly heavy-duty gun at Craig's heart. "You aren't going to move. You do have the right to remain silent."

"I relinquish that right," Craig replied in a fabricated bored tone. "You're right, though, I'm not going to move. And you're not going to shoot me, either."

"Don't be so sure, boy."

"Oh, but I am. Even you aren't that stupid."

Tweek whimpered and made a move to get up, but Craig kicked him again, making sure to position his foot so that it looked worse than it was. With a muted squeak, the blonde went still again.

"Step away from him," the officer instructed.

"You told me not to move."

"Don't be smart with me."

Sighing, Craig took a step and a half away from Tweek's tiny, shaking form, trying desperately to ignore the shuddering, high-pitched crying that was coming from him. He crossed his arms, but not before the policeman lunged forward, sheathing his gun, and grabbed his arm with a strong hand.

"I'm going to handcuff you," he said.

"How melodramatic of you."

The metal handcuffs slid into place with heavy _clinks,_ cutting into his wrists. Tweek's sobs grew into horrible, anguished caterwauls, but Craig's expression remained stony.

"Tweek," he called softly. "Hold on for me, okay?"

"No! N-no…"

"Stay here, son," the officer instructed Tweek in what he seemed to consider a fatherly tone. "Let me deal with him…" Craig was careful not to let out any pained sounds while he was grabbed by the shoulders and hauled towards the door.

"_NO!_" Tweek's voice was nothing so much as a scream, a single, high-pitched syllable ringing through the night, eerily in sync with a crack of lightning that flashed across the room, casting everything into sharp, merciless relief. As if on cue, rain began to pound against the window, and a great burst of thunder shook the floor, not quite drowning out the sirens still wailing outside the house. Stumbling over on all fours, he reared up and grasped Craig's forearm, pulling it closer to him, holding it as tightly as he could in his thin, bony hands. "NO! _GIVE HIM BACK TO ME!"_

"It's best you back off," the officer advised coldly, his former kindness abandoned, "before he kicks you again."

"He won't, he doesn't—it's not like that!" Tweek pleaded. "I don't know why he was acting like that, but it's not really—he's not abusive, I swear, I can prove it, just give him back!"

_No, you idiot! _Ignoring the tears that were beginning to burn in his eyes once more, Craig swung his leg out at Tweek and caught him around the back of his knees, so that his legs folded and he dropped face-first into the carpet. Slowly, the blonde boy looked up, hurt and disbelief in his shadowed eyes. Craig jerked his head in the opposite direction, refusing to look, unable to look.

Tweek stood, shaking all over, staring at the back of Craig's hanging head. Then, ever so gradually, he stumbled back and fell into the swivel chair in front of the desk. His head started to spin again as the policeman pulled at Craig, and he squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the insistent dizziness, as he turned to type, to beg for help.

**Me****: **_i just..._

**Bebe****: **_Follow them, stay with him._

_They aren't taking him._

**Me****: **_they won't let me near him..._

**Bebe****: **_CAN I GET AN OFFICER OVER HERE?_

_Goddammit_

He didn't even see her writing. He was too busy telling her about it. He typed in the words, the letters, steadily, one at a time, so that each tap rang through the room.

**Me****: **_they walked in on us..._

_they automatically assumed he was raping me because i was screaming to stop & i was crying & fighting it..._

**Bebe****: **_can you get one over here? on the computer?_

This time, her request didn't go unnoticed. A hint of hope, tiny but still there, glowed inside of him, and the next sentence sped out much faster.

**Me****: **_yeah! they haven't left yet!_

"Um… s-sir?" Tweek called out tentatively, tasting salt from the tears still edging down his cheeks.

"Yes?" The officer looked up.

"O-over here… on the computer… our friend… sh-she wants to talk to y-you…"

**Bebe****: **_okay._


	10. Supposed Resolution

**A/N** _Stage Tennnnnn. My current favorite number, other than 57 (don't ask). XD Well, I like this one nearly as much as the previous, so cheers. Um. Nothing much to say, except for my apologies for the random skipped update week. I won't do it again; I just totally forgot to post! Well. Here we are at another longer chapter... enjoy. And thank you all so much for the brilliant reviews last time around- I had an overload of the warm fuzzies. ^^_

**Thanks to **_NightmareMyLove, SparklesMakeMeHappy, TheWriter21, and ChocolateCherryWine (I really did appreciate the constructive aspect of your review ^^)_

**Disclaimer** _I don't own South Park or any associated characters, events, etc. _

* * *

><p><strong>S<em>tage <em>10. (**[[**{**_s._u._p._p._o._s._e._d—_r._e._s._o._l._u._t._i._o._n** }**]]**)**

**10:24 pm**

**July 30th, 2011**

**South Park, Colorado**

**Me****: **_Hello? This is Officer Marcus_

As the policeman settled down to talk to Bebe—hopefully, _hopefully _she'd be able to save them—Tweek edged back towards Craig, though his legs were still stinging from that last kick. As he opened his mouth to speak, the dark-haired boy lifted his handcuffed hands, raising a single long finger to his lips. For a moment, Tweek almost completely missed the signal, caught up in how darkly handsome Craig was, with his deep blue eyes smoldering fiercely and his sleek black hair hanging messily in his still-pale face—and then he realized that he was supposed to stay silent. He clamped his jaw shut instantly, though it didn't prevent his eyes from flickering back and forth frantically. Craig inclined his head for Tweek to come closer, which he did, his weak legs resulting in a few stumbles, until he was right next to him—close enough to kiss, which he didn't dare to do.

"Are you okay?" Craig breathed, reaching out as far as his bindings permitted him and catching a bit of Tweek's hair between his fingers. The low, steady drum of rain, with its background of sirens, would render his voice inaudible to the policeman.

"N-no…" His voice squeaked a little, and he gulped before speaking again, as lowly as possible. "No, of course not! They're going to… they're going to t-take you…"

**Bebe****: **_Hey. So, I want to give you some information..._

**Me****: **_Yes?_

**Bebe****:**_ I'm a friend of Tweek Tweak's_

**Me****: **_Are you the girl who called us over here?_

**Bebe****: **_Yup, that's me. So... this both is and isn't what it seems to be._

**Me****: **_What do you mean? I walked in on the black haired kid raping the blonde one._

**Bebe****: **_Right. Sooo..._

_So, yes, this has been going on for a while_

_And I know the formalities have to be observed..._

_but can you keep the blonde by his side?_

_Because I've gone through quite a bit on this end of the computer..._

_and, well..._

_a lot changed in the past few minutes._

_So... I'll try to get to Colorado for the trial, assuming there'll be one_

_He's not really innocent_

_but... he's not guilty, either_

_so... that's all_

"Not if I can help it," Craig replied firmly, risking a glance towards the officer, who seemed focused enough on the computer. "We're going to get out of here, I promise. We just have to hope that she can hold him off long enough… so that he won't notice… doesn't seem very intelligent to me, but it shouldn't be a problem."

"Craig…" Tweek moved in closer to him, but Craig pulled away, backing up.

"No, not here… not now… we have to go…"

**Me****: **_Are they technically hurting each other? If you don't think so, & the blonde boy agrees, then I SUPPOSE we can call it off. I always feel bad splitting up couples. It's been a slow night but you can't tell anyone else...I suppose we can just say we "accidentally" walked in on an intimate couple..._

**Bebe****: **_ well... yeah. I can keep an eye on their 'activity' for a while, if you want_

_just to make sure_

_Black-hair had a bit of a rough childhood, too_

**Me****: **_I would prefer that...The blonde boy...Tweek, I guess his name is, seems pretty shaken up by the whole ordeal..._

_ Plus he has a bad medical record._

**Bebe****:**_ Yeah, he's a twitchy little dude._

**Me****: **_I would almost prefer it if the two of them stay together actually._

**Bebe: **_I'm sure they will, after tonight_

_Like I said...things have changed._

**Me****: **_Should I KNOW about these "things"?_

**Bebe****: **_Nope. It's their business._

_But any abuse is gone now._

_Just so you know._

**Me****: **_Ma'am, may I remind you I am an Officer, & their "business" becomes MY business._

**Bebe: **_Not if it's personal. Like I said, any abuse that there was? It's gone now._

_I suppose I can back this up with a number of Gmail chats..._

**Me****: **_Even if its personal._

**Bebe****: **_and one audio tape_

**Me****: **_It becomes MY business unless you want to be violating the law & go to prison yourself..._

"Okay." Craig shot once last glance in the policeman's direction, then grabbed Tweek's wrist and swiftly led him out into the hallway. He knew Tweek's house well enough so that he could easily avoid all the creaky floorboards. Ever so carefully, he made his way downstairs, periodically checking to make sure that Tweek was right behind him, until they were on the ground floor. From there, it was a simple matter of dashing towards the doorway and heaving it open, a feat which was made a bit more challenging by the binding of his hands.

**Bebe: **_Listen to me, okay? You just said you wanted to let them off, yourself. What can I say? The black-haired kid is named Craig. He had some abusive trouble at a young age. He took it out on his best friend, Tweek._

_But Tweek loved him_

_and now Craig finally sees that and can return it._

_So... all is resolved._

**Me****: **_What did Craig do to Tweek?_

**Bebe: **_I have an audio tape detailing a particular affair._

** Me: **_Tell me._

**Bebe****: **_I'm in Georgetown, Texas right now, but I'm sure I can arrange for you to get it_

_hang on..._

_wait..._

_yes, I have it written out._

_one moment_

_should I just email to Tweek?_

_I expect you'd get it_

** Me: **_Just tell me what happened & it will all be over. Unless I know this information, the boys will have to go to court. Now do you really want to ruin Tweek's next few high school years?_

_Fine, email it to Tweek. I will look at it_

**Bebe: **_No, I'm not trying to avoid anything... sir_

_Craig deserves what he gets_

**Me:**_ I am waiting for this so called email_

**Bebe: **_This so called email is being typed._

_may I inquire as to the condition of the boys right now?_

**Me****: **_They're crying by the doorway… I have Craig handcuffed, though, nothing can happen._

**Bebe****: **_okay_

**Me****: **_I have gotten the email_

**Bebe: **_And I have gotten your response._

**Me****: **_You do realize what the black-haired boy did is highly illegal?_

**Bebe****: **_Yup, I do_

**Me****: **_One second, I am a single officer here I have no one with me so i better go take care of the boys._

**Bebe: **_All right._

**Me****: **_But before I do, so you WANT Craig to go to jail?_

**Bebe****: **_Well...let me think this over for a moment_

**Me****: **_Fine, do it quickly though I don't want the boys to start making out over there_

**Bebe****: **_Right_

_okay..._

_you want complete honesty here?_

**Me****: **_Yes. I do._

"Here! Okay, go!" Craig bundled Tweek out the door, relishing the cool relief of the rain on his bare shoulders before closing the door. "Just a couple houses… we can do this…"

Tweek was crying again, though he didn't know if it was from misery or elation. "Craig… C-Craig…"

"Go, go!"

Red and blue light from the police car dimly illuminated the rainy scene as the two of them sprinted along the sidewalk, water soaking their socks and chilling their feet.

"C-Craig," Tweek gasped, already out of breath after only a couple of moments, "I—you do know that I—"

"Look out!" Craig yelped, but it was too late—Tweek's left foot hooked over a tree branch lying in their way, and he went sprawling across the sidewalk, skidding to a halt in the street. His shoulders strained as he tried to lift himself up, a single, feeble attempt, but his soreness and nerves were too much for his body, and he collapsed facedown, crying harder than ever at his own helplessness.

Craig hurried into the street after him, ignoring the rain that was now beginning to chill him, and grabbed Tweek by the shoulders, lifting him up. "Come on," he begged. "You can't give up, not now—it's just a bit farther…"

"I—I don't want to pass out again," Tweek sobbed, and that was when Craig realized the truth of their situation. Tweek had reached his limit. He'd been threatened, terrified, near-raped, knocked out, kissed, severely shocked, put through quite an adrenaline test, and had his boyfriend taken forcefully away from him, all in the past hour. He couldn't handle any more.

So, with the metaphor of the prince and the princess still taunting him mockingly, Craig scooped up the smaller boy in his arms and stood up, cradling Tweek to his chest with none too little effort. "It's okay," he promised. "I've got you. I'll bring you back." He started to run again, though it was more of a sort of crooked lope now, with the deadweight holding him down.

"I'm sorry…" Tweek whimpered. "I'm so… p-pathetic…"

"You're not pathetic," Craig growled, and Tweek could feel the voice in the vibrations of his chest. He closed his eyes, snuggling up even closer to Craig, his legs swinging, and tried to ignore the sirens that still echoed a few houses down. "You're not. It's just that you have a smaller capacity than others… it's nothing to be embarrassed about. Now, just hold on. We're almost there…"

Tweek managed to get out a few more sobs—they now sounded more like coughs—before they reached Craig's doorstep. Craig didn't set him down when they got there, though, but rather took a moment to look over his face. He had told himself that the last bit at Tweek's house was it, that he wouldn't allow himself any more, and yet… his plan had already changed, hadn't it? So why not give himself a final treat?

"Tweek," he murmured gently.

The other's eyes sprung open instantly. "We-we're here? I'm awake, it's—I'm okay—"

"I know you are," Craig replied simply, and bent down for a final kiss, but it was much different from his other ones. This kiss was soft, almost gentle, and the most amazing part was that they both had an equal say in it. Things seemed almost magically transformed—instead of an easy war, the kiss was now a dance, something delicate and wonderful and unearthly that was shared by both parties. The feel of his own lips being pushed back on, of _Tweek's _tongue sliding under _his, _of their mouths moving together, rather than him simply forcing himself on Tweek's… it was stunning. The sirens echoing their mournful cacophony through the neighborhood, the policeman holed up in the nearby house, the rain that plastered their hair to their necks, and to each other's cheeks—all was forgotten as, for the first time, they felt how kissing was meant to be.

"Let's go inside," Craig whispered against Tweek's lips. And, parting reluctantly, they did. Craig closed the door with his shoulder, blocking out the rain and cutting off the sirens, and strode over to his couch, where he gently laid Tweek down.

"Are you okay?" he asked, bending down beside him and massaging Tweek's hand between his. "Do you need anything? Are you dizzy, do you feel nauseous?"

Very, very faintly, Tweek smiled, his eyes glimmering with unshed tears. "You're like an overeager housewife," he rasped, and his voice didn't waver once.

Craig flushed, but a rare grin erupted unwillingly over his own face.

It looked quite good on him, Tweek noted hazily. Colors seemed brighter than usual, and things were blurry around the edges, but he had never felt more awake, never felt more alive. "I really love you a lot," he mused, and didn't realize that he'd uttered the words aloud until the act had already been committed.

"Well, the same can be said over here," Craig replied good-naturedly, but that didn't mean that he was as blissful as Tweek, or anywhere near, really. His plan hadn't been abandoned.

There was still something left to be done, something that would change everything…

**Bebe****: **_Well...it's all crap_

_they did nothing..._

_I'm jealous of Tweek. Okay? Done_

**Me****: **_That email is all crap?_

**Bebe****: **_it's a prank._

_Y-up._

**Me****: **_You do realize you just pranked a federal officer correct_**?**

**Bebe****: **_M~hm._

**Me****: **_You do realize this could put you in prison._

**Bebe****: **_You could use a break every once in a while._

_Person to person? Come on._

_I wanted them in trouble_

_But... yeah. Neither did anything._

_Full confession..._

_But you can't get me! :P_

**Me****:**_ I was having an evening with my family because I am always stuck at work. They had to call ME out because the other night shift police in South Park were on a job, so I had to come all this way?_

_I have a computer tracking program._

_I CAN find you._

**Bebe: **_No, you can't!_


	11. Or Not

**A/N** _So, I'd like to take this time to explain a couple of things that have probably been confusing to a few of you- I know they were to my only reviewer for the last chapter, Dawne. Craig was trying to get himself arrested, knowing that it would be best for Tweek. However, when he saw that Tweek was going to be legally affected by his own arrest, he decided to get them both out of there. Bebe, suspecting this, wanted to give them a chance; she had no way of knowing whether or not the boys would take the opportunity she provided, but, luckily enough, they did. Hope that clears things up! If I haven't mentioned it before, this is adapted from a roleplay, and that's why it might be unclear at times. Anyways. Short chapter now, but please review anyways! There are only four more chapters after this one, we're more than 2/3 of the way through!  
><em>

**Thanks** **to** _Dawne_

**Disclaimer** _I don't own South Park or any associated characters, events, etc._

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><p><strong>S<strong>_**tage **_**11. ****(**[[**{**o._r._—n._o._t**}**]]**)**

**10:53 pm**

**July 30****th****, 2011**

**South Park, Colorado**

**Me: **_HEY!_

_don't tell the police officer!_

_we snuck back to Craig's house_

Tweek was sitting up now, Craig's laptop balanced on his knees, the dark-haired boy himself in his bedroom. Craig had said that he needed to have a couple of minutes to calm down, but had only left after Tweek's insistent confirmation that, yes, he was fine. Of course he was fine. The last hour or so had been hard… horribly, horribly torturous, but if it was what he needed to get to the point with Craig where he had now arrived, then it was worth it, worth it a million times over. Now, perched here on this slightly saggy couch, bloodied and sweat-soaked, aching all over, Tweek was happy, as happy as he could ever imagine being.

**Bebe****: **_Nice job, guys..._

**Me****: **_WE are BOTH safe_

**Bebe****: **_okay, now tell me what to do with this officer!_

**Me****: **_I don't know!_

**Bebe****: **_dammit_

**Me****: **_umm..._

He felt a small nudge of fear. Surely the officer wasn't a problem at this point? She would find a way to take care of him, one way or another. She _had _to. Otherwise… Craig had locked the door, but certainly that wouldn't be a challenge for police officers… Tweek pulled himself farther into the corner of the couch, cradling the computer and casting a few furtive glances in the direction where Craig had gone. Hopefully, he'd be back soon.

**Bebe: **_okay...done_

_you're good, I think_

Yes! Then this was it, everything was perfect now… unless the rape came back… but surely it wouldn't. Not after this. Yet that faint possibility seemed to grow the more Tweek tried to ignore and degrade it, until it was a notable obstruction to the seemingly bright future laid out before the two of them.

_So... you guys on good terms? No more forcedness?_

**Me****: **_i-i believe so..._

_Although i am worried..._

**Bebe****: **_Well...Craig...you can do this, I know you can_

His eyebrows drew together in puzzlement.

**Me****: **_NO this is Tweek_

**Bebe: **_Tell him?_

_tell him that i know he can do it_

Tell him? Not seeing her next, more detailed line, he entered a thoughtless inquiry, then glanced up, blushed, and excused it.

**Me****: **_Tell him what?_

_oh_

**Bebe****: **_Yeah._

**Me****: **_no, i can't right now_

It had been quite a few minutes… the inescapable worry gnawing at Tweek's lungs suddenly seemed to take a new direction, find something else to latch onto and begin demolishing. His breath automatically came quicker. What could possibly have happened to Craig in that room? Surely there was something.

_i-i am worried about him..._

**Bebe****: **_how so?_

**Me****: **_ever since we got back to his house he has been sitting in his room with the door locked..._

**Bebe****: **_oh dear_

**Me****: **_i am sitting in the living room with his laptop._

**Bebe****: **_Can you tell him that you're off? Like, no more legal pursuing?_

_you guys are free_

_you have each other now_

**Me****: **_I know we are._

Lifting the laptop and carrying it by its edge in one hand, he nervously disrupted the orange blanket Craig had wrapped insistently around him (claiming he 'needed' it) to plod over to the tightly shut bedroom door he knew the other boy to be behind. "C-Craig?" he called hesitantly. Nothing. Hastily, he kneeled down to type.

_He knows that too_

_but he won't come out_

_he won't talk to me..._

_i broke a promise..._

**Bebe: **_what's that?_

**Me****: **_i promised him i wouldn't let anyone hurt him..._

**Bebe****: **_And who did?_

**Me****: **_i promised him that I would let him keep abusing me if it made him happy..._

Tears were welling up in his eyes. "Craig! _Craig!_" Surely he was hated now. He'd been such an idiot to think that things could be resolved so easily.

**Bebe: **_okay. But it wasn't worth it._

_You'll both be happier now, I promise._

**Me****: **_he is more than likely to go back to that. but honestly I don't care._

**Bebe: **_Tweek, I NEED you to care._

_That can NOT be the core of your relationship._

**Me****: **_i-i just...i just can't_

**Bebe****: **_there are better ways to help him._

_Next time, I want you to make the approach, okay?_

**Me****: **_he's still in his room..._

**Bebe****: **_I want you to be the one to start things._

**Me****:**_ i don't know what to do..._

**Bebe****: **_Now, even, if you want._

_Go to him. Knock on the door. Sit outside till it opens. when it does..._

_Kiss him. And then see what happens from there._

Shaking, Tweek let the computer slip from his fingers and stood again, not knocking, but throwing his whole weight against the door. "Craig! _Craig!" _he wailed, scrabbling at the doorknob, which stubbornly refused to budge. "Please! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I—I'll do anything, I swear!" Slowly, he sank to the ground, gasping, his fingers still pressed against the clean wood, moving over it as if searching for a single rough spot, something to hold onto, something that wasn't so slippery and unreachable. But there was nothing. Still trembling, he managed to tell Bebe that he'd done it, done what he asked.

**Me****: **_i knocked...i am sitting outside his door waiting right now..._

**Bebe****: **_okay_

**Me****: **_for the past 10 minutes..._

_He's not making any noise in there..._


	12. Partial Realization

**A/N** _Ha. Another one of those short-but-important chapters. Um, yeah... only three more after this! Three more and then this fic is OVER! Well, anyways. Reviiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiew. And enjoy. I retain the explanation from last chapter about things not making sense at times. ;)_

**Thanks to** _NightmareMyLove_

**Disclaimer** _I don't own South Park or any associated characters, events, etc. _

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><p><strong>S<strong>_**tage **_**12. ****(**[[**{**_p._a._r._t._i._a._l—_r._e._a._l._i._z._a._t._i._o._n**}**]]**)**

**11:05 pm**

**July 30****th****, 2011**

**South Park, Colorado**

**Bebe****: **_Just wait. As long as it takes._

**Me****:**_ I am..._

_i-_

**Bebe****: **_okay._

**Me****: **_he won't answer..._

**Bebe: **_What room is it?_

**Me****: **_His bedroom_

**Bebe****: **_okay..._

_he's not upset enough to be hurting himself, is he?_

Craig heard the beeps and the clicks of rapid, frantic typing from outside. He was shaking harder than he ever had in his life, and in his hand was a gun. Just a handgun, his father's, fairly small, dark silver… it felt cool and smooth in his sweaty hand, its contours fitting into those of his hand. He could hear the unmistakable sound of Tweek's sobs outside, but they didn't matter. He was doing this _for _Tweek. The last part of the plan, the final part… he'd be removing himself from the blonde boy's path for good this time. He wouldn't hurt him anymore. Wouldn't hurt him. Breathing very heavily, he allowed himself a seat, lowering down into a chair. _Oh, God, how am I doing this? How can I do this? _Unwillingly, his dark blue gaze drifted towards Stripe, who was pushed up curiously against the bars of his cage. Craig groaned silently. The guinea pig looked curious, and a bit worried, something that was visible in the sheen of his dark eyes and twitching, whiskery, soft little nose. Craig felt the dominating urge to stroke his pet's soft little shoulders, feel the narrow, tiny muscles moving in them, but he resisted, brought into reality by a dull _clunk _as the gun hit the edge of the chair.

_Okay. Time to do this. _Squeezing his eyes shut to block Stripe out, he tightened his grip on the weapon.

**Me****: **_well..._

_That's..._

_he-um..._

**Bebe****: **_okay, BREAK THE DOOR DOWN if you have to._

**Me****: **_he is more than likely..._

**Bebe: **_GET IN THERE. Talk to him. Do whatever you need to, but DON'T LET HIM ABUSE YOU. Take the reins. Take control. Okay? Can you do that?_

**Me****: **_i-i don't know if i can_

**Bebe****: **_scream at him. Or anything. through the door_

_tell him you love him_

_tell him that the officer is gone_

_just don't tell him that it's okay for him to hurt you_

_because, I promise, that __will not help._

"CRAIG! CRAIG PLEASE! IT'S ME! PLEASE OPEN UP! PLEASE? I-I-I LO—I love you... I ALWAYS HAVE, NOW GODDAMMIT OPEN UP PLEASE!"

The screams, so desperate, so pleading… he had to ignore them. Tears burned in Craig's eyes, too hot, painful. He lifted the gun slowly to his head. It shook violently, ridiculously, the chilling metal knocking against his skull. There was no way he'd get a direct shot, when he was in so little control of his extremities, but that didn't matter. A shot this close to the head… it had to be fatal. There was no avoiding that. _I have to do this. I have to. It's for him. He doesn't know what's good for him. Never has. Now, come on… do it… _his finger wrapped around the trigger. He'd have to time it with thunder, which had been coming about two seconds after each lightning flash, so that Tweek couldn't hear… he didn't want the blonde boy to discover this alone. He couldn't break into Craig's bedroom; doubtless, he would call the police again in the end, and then the door would be forced down… and then, at least, he wouldn't be alone…

_Okay, no more dawdling, just do it, it's like jumping into a pool_—cutting into his thoughts was a huge, brilliant flash of lighting, which illuminated every corner of the room, seeming to wash it all in silent unearthliness. Knowing that this would be _his _thunder crack, he counted—one, two—and then pulled the trigger.

**Me: **_no answer_

_no...no answer..._

**Bebe****: **_damn..._

_crack under the door? look through it_

_or keyhole, anything_

The thunder was magnificent, a huge, echoing, booming blast, sharp yet massive, lingering, echoing. But Craig didn't hear it. The gun fell from his hand as his whole body jerked violently to the side, toppling off the chair, rolling to a halt sprawled against the door, completely limp, unknowing, gone.

**Me****: **_no...he blocked them all..._

_what is he hiding?_

**Bebe****:** _..._

**Me****: **_wha?_

**Bebe****: **_how are they blocked?_

**Me****: **_the bottom...blocked by...what the..._

_i don't know what that is..._

**Bebe: **_tell me._

_describe._

**Me: **_the key hole has tissue paper in it..._

**Bebe: **_what's on the bottom?_

**Me: **_but i dunno what's blocking the crack between the floor & the door_

_i-i can't tell what it is_

**Bebe: **_describe it!_

**Me: **_it's...soft...warm..._

**Bebe: **_color?_

**Me: **_slightly squishy_

_umm..._

**Bebe: **_..._

**Me: **_it looks blackish?_

**Bebe:**_ okay_

_okay_

_so..._

**Me: **_i dunno there are no lights n is house the power went out with the storm_

**Bebe: **_and it's solid?_

**Me: **_yes_

**Bebe: **_okay._

**Me: **_why do you ask?_

_w-what is going on?_

Tweek had passed beyond fear. He was terrified. That thing on the bottom of the door… what the _hell _had Craig put there? What was going on? "I just want to see you!" he rasped weakly, lips pressed to the door's wood, eyes shut tightly. "Just tell me you're okay!" But there was nothing. Nothing.

**Bebe: **_Stay there…_


	13. Grudging Return

**A/N** _Short chapter of short randomness that really doesn't help with the cliffhanger (?) I presented you with next chapter. La-tee-da-tee-da. Reviiiiiiiiiiiiiiew?_

**Thanks to **_PunjabiKangaroo and Tayviee (not gonna answer your question...)_

**Disclaimer **_I don't own South Park or any associated characters, events, etc._

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><p><strong>S<strong>_**tage **_**13. ****(**[[**{**_g_.r._u._d._g._i._n._g—_r._e._t._u._r._n**}**]]**)**

**11:16 pm**

**July 30****th****, 2011**

**South Park, Colorado**

**Bebe: **_...you aren't still there?_

_no, of course not_

Officer Marcus, plodding up from the blonde's kitchen with a doughnut in hand, was rather pleased by the flash of orange on the cracked computer screen. He'd been hoping that the little bitch would come back, so that he could get in a yell or two before making it all official. He couldn't help but feel that there was a sort of personal conflict between the two of them now.

**Me: **_Oh, you decided to come back_

**Bebe: **_ah, hello_

**Me: **_Told you I wouldn't let you get away_

**Bebe: **_I need you to GET OVER TO THE HOUSE FIVE DOORS DOWN_

Another prank. He rolled his eyes in disgust. These kids lately were truly unbearable.

**Me: **_Why?_

**Bebe: **_and figure out what the hell's going on there._

_Because I'm begging you to._

_I have money…_

He took a large bite of the doughnut, glaring at the screen. Money, hm? Did she think that money interested him? His fingers hovered over the keyboard, over an inquiry of _how much?, _but not before she got another line out.

_but this is your DUTY, now, isn't it?_

**Me: **_But why should I?_

**Bebe: **_go on._

**Me: **_For all i know you could have rigged the house_

A very distinct possibility, and Marcus couldn't help but feel rather pleased with himself for the thought. She indeed could have. A perfect excuse to stay here in this rather coffee-filled house for another hour or so before heading back home.

**Bebe: **_Because otherwise I'll report you as inadequate..._

_call for reinforcement, then!_

**Me: **_I would like to know what is going on_

**Bebe: **_Call for fucking Sherlock Holmes, for all I care, if you need someone to sniff things out for you!_

_okay? you better be heading over there now_

**Me: **_Why?_

_Tell me_

**Bebe: **_oh, for the sake of-_

**Me: **_I have rights to not go if the message is from someone who threatened me & told me that I can't catch them._

The rights, and the preference—_which ought to count for something in this messed-up country, _he thought sourly.

**Bebe: **_I'm calling the station again, and then someone else will go get the job and the money._

**Me: **_the power is down...their lines are down_

_they are working on a backup generator._

**Bebe: **_pathetic..._

_okay, listen._

_If you don't get over there right now..._

_then..._

_I am going to pursue YOU legally._

_we'll see what comes of that._

_okay?_

His stomach turned at that. Surely what he'd said was accurate? He had the right to… _not something to be risked. _It was with no small amount of irritation that the next word was keyed in.

**Me: **_Fine._

**Bebe: **_a man of the law, not even attending to his duty...such shame_

_thank YOU_

_good fucking god_


	14. True Climax

**A/N** _One more chapter left. JUST ONE! Oh, and by the way, the reviewer Maddiesaurus REX is the one who this roleplay was with! So go and give her some love! XD_

**Thanks to** _NightmareMyLove and Maddiesaurus REX_

**Disclaimer** _I don't own South Park or any associated characters, events, etc. _

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><p><strong><em>Stage <em>14. ****(**[[**{**_t._r._u._e—_c._l._i._m._a._x** }**]]**)**

**11:18 pm**

**July 30****th****, 2011**

**South Park, Colorado**

**Me: **_why? what is going on?_

**Bebe: **_...something not good_

**Me: **_what?_

_what is going on please tell me!_

Please tell me. That was what he said. But what he was thinking was _please help me. _Please, please help me. Some part of him understood exactly what was going on, understood that it was irrevocable and final and horrible. All he wanted was to be able to see Craig again, to be able to feel him, to smell him, to taste his lips and curl himself against his warm chest. Who _cared _if things returned to abuse? As long as he could have Craig, nothing else mattered. _Nothing. _"Craig!" he screamed, a scream that ripped his throat and brought tears to his eyes. "_Craig! Please!"_

The beep of the computer was hardly heard over his own, now-desperate shrieks, but he did manage to see the orange flash through his streaming eyes.

**Bebe: **_I have help going over there. okay?_

Just then, he heard the sirens. _The sirens. _"Oh, God, no," Tweek moaned, gripping the sides of the computer like a life preserver. But things seemed to be dragging him under the water, the bloody, hellish water, and he wasn't sure he wanted to resist.

_Keep fighting, _he thought numbly. _Type. Ask for help. For Craig… for Craig... _the next words came out very weakly.

**Me: **_The police officer is coming for us!_

**Bebe: **_no. it's okay_

**Me: **_what? help?_

**Bebe: **_they WON'T hurt you. I promise!_

**Me: **_why? WHAT IS HAPPENING?_

**Bebe: **_He's going to help you reach Craig_

**Me: **_w-why do i need his help reaching Craig?_

**Bebe: **_well, you clearly can't get to him yourself_

**Me: **_but, i would break the door down..._

_Why do i need emergency help_

**Bebe: **_we have to make sure Craig's all right_

_is the officer there?_

**Me: **_yeah he's here..._

There, and pounding on the door, _pounding _on it, until Tweek couldn't tell the difference between the thunder and the knocking, if it could be called that.

_don't wanna open up the door..._

**Bebe: **_please do. for Craig's sake._

**Me: **_i don't wanna know what's on the other side_

_what HAPPENED to Craig?_

_why won't you tell me?_

**Bebe: **_Quite possibly, nothing happened._

_the sooner we see, the safer the chances_

**Me: **_but you are acting frantic... please tell me...please...tell me what could have possible happened...please..._

**Bebe: **_open the door and we'll see!_

_basically, he could have hurt himself. okay? that good enough for you?_

_but if we get the door open_

_he'll probably be all right_

He was inside. He was running up the stairs. He was pushing back Tweek, and, uncaring, the blonde boy let himself slump over until he was half-propped against the wall. The officer was asking questions, but he didn't hear the words, didn't care. _Craig. _He felt weak. Extremely weak. He just wanted Craig, wanted to be able to wrap his arms around that warm, strong body… _Craig, please... _what else _mattered, _really? _Nothing. NOTHING! _With Craig gone, there would _be _nothing. But he wasn't gone, that wouldn't make any sense… he couldn't be gone… could he have just run away? _Craig… if you ran… I will chase you anywhere. I promise. Anywhere. I don't care how much it hurts. I just need to have you. I need to._

Now the officer was breaking down the door. And there it was. There it was. Right there.

_Him._

_It._

_The body…_

_It._

Craig?

_No. It's not him._

But Tweek's lips were still framing his name, letting it hover in the air for a whisper of a second—a question—before it was gone. Gone. And he had to say it again, replenish its life, like letting a baby bird catch a second draft of wind to stretch its tiny wings. _Craig? _Was it out loud? Or in his head? _Craig. Please. Come on, Craig… _and then he was talking in a constant, ceaseless stream, because as soon as his voice was gone, Craig would be, too. _It's okay, Craig, let's go, let's do this, it's okay, get up, stop pretending, it's not funny, Craig, it's not funny, I can't handle this, not tonight, please, no, look, Craig, the police officer is here, you don't want to get in trouble, do you, Craig? Get up, get up now, stop that, stop fooling around, or I'll hurt… I'll hurt Stripe, that's what I'll do, I'll run into your room and take him and hurt him as hard as I can, Craig, if you don't stop this fucked-up joke right now…_

There was nothing more to say. Nothing more to do, to live for, to breathe for. The words were gone now. They were gone. And so was Craig.

_Gone. Vanished. Disappeared. Escaped. Stolen. _

_You took him. You took him from me. _

He couldn't be gone. He was gone. He was gone. Everything was gone. There was nothing. Nothing. Nothing, and Tweek was drowning, drowning in great, dirty, gory, breaking waves that suffocated him, that bored into his lungs with their coldness, took him away, far away from anything that could possibly save him, galaxies away, universes, dimensions, so that there was no way—no way ever, _ever—_that he could possibly get him back. There was nothing left. _Nothing._

Tweek was hollow. And it was only through hollowness, through a careful balance of thinking about nothing, caring about nothing, separating himself, riding the waves, that he could type the next words.

**Bebe: **_tell me what happened._

**Me: **_that-that thing blocking the door..._

**Bebe: **_yes?_

_what was it?_

_TELL me._

**Me: **_it was..._

_it-_

_i just can't_

_it..._

**Bebe: **_Tweek. Please. Tell me._

**Me: **_i wasn't prepared for the worst..._

**Bebe: **_just tell me. then I can help you._

**Me: **_no...you can't_

**Bebe: **_if you can't tell me, get the officer_

**Me: **_the officer opened the door..._

_i am..._

_i am horrified_

**Bebe: **_okay. please tell me what happened, Tweek._

**Me: **_he was..._

_i can't_

_he_

_blood_

_blocking the door._

**Bebe: **_Okay._

**Me: **_a body was blocking the door_

**Bebe: **_That's what I thought._

_And was it his body?_

**Me: **_y-yes..._

_i_

_i just can't_

**Bebe: **_Get the officer on. Now._

**Me: **_he..._

_ok..._

**Bebe: **_thank you._

_Thank you? _Like she cared. Like she _cared…_

"NO!" he screeched then, and it was an inhuman sound, something that pushed past all barriers, tore, broke them cleanly so that they shattered and crumbled to tiny bits. He was falling, felt blood against his cheek as his head hit the floor, and then was grasping at nothing, his nails itching and tearing against the cruelly smooth, perfect wooden floor… running into a lazy, meandering rivulet of blood—and it was so crimson, so scarlet, so violently red and real and… as it ran over his thin fingers… so warm and thin and careless, not the color of roses—no romantic shit like that—it was watered down ketchup, a half-faded memory of a sunny day in a fast-food restaurant, of laughing, smiling, life. And now it was escaping. Even as Tweek's hand turned and grasped at it, the elusive strand of forgotten life trickled away, because it had better places to be, places beyond Tweek and his stupid, insignificant problems.

_Because you don't matter, Tweek. You don't matter._

And as the blood flowed away and Craig lay lifeless and Tweek cried like he never had before, so that he couldn't see, couldn't breathe, couldn't sense or feel, the lightning came, an all-absorbing sheet of lightning that enveloped everything, until Tweek could see it whether he liked it or not. Could see the dark liquid soaking and pooling in Craig's neck, and the hand that was placed firmly in it… and could trace the hand up to the officer, and the expression on his face, which—in a better time, Tweek might have seen this—was, unbelievably, one of hope.


	15. Genuine Resolution

**A/N** _LAST CHAPTER. This is the LAST FREAKIN' CHAPTER. Yay? Nay? Well, anyhoo, if you've been holding off reviewing... this is the time. Thoughts, please? Well. Anyways. This is the end of Sirens... say byebye! Though there MIGHT be a semi-sequelish sort of thing coming up later maybe... shh! I didn't say anything! ;)_

**Thanks to** _Tayviee and NightmareMyLove_

**Disclaimer** _I don't own South Park or any associated characters, events, etc. _

* * *

><p><strong>S<strong>_**tage **_**15. ****(**[[**{**_g._e._n._u._i._n._e—_r._e._s._o._l._u._t._i._o._n_**}**]]**)**

**11:22 pm**

**July 30****th****, 2011**

**South Park, Colorado**

**Me: **_Hello again this is Officer Marcus._

**Bebe: **_Looks like you were too late, __officer._

**Me: **_No i wasn't_

_You're MAKING me late._

**Bebe: **_Go._

**Me: **_The kid still has a pulse_

**Bebe: **_GO._

**Me: **_I AM GOING_

**Bebe: **_good._

_Tweek?_

He was gone, gone in seconds, and then there really was nothing yet. But Tweek felt different now. Nauseated with hope that shouldn't dare to exist. He had heard the policeman's words. "He has a pulse! Get out of my way, kid, go!" He'd be taken to the hospital now, fawned over and saved… or would he? How could a bullet wound not be fatal? _It must have skimmed over the skull. _Those were the officer's words. But Craig had held the gun up himself, pulled the trigger himself, and he would never have been careless about something like that. How could he have…?

There were yet more sirens, somehow louder and fiercer than before, as the car drove away. Then even they faded, and he was alone. Really alone, sitting in the middle of the hallway with the rain (now light, as though that last, unspeakably violent flash and bang had been its grand finale) drumming at the windows, with a sizable pool of blood staining the floor and the door lying cracked on the ground, its hinges having been removed. And the laptop, its lid half-shut, sitting a few feet away.

Slowly, as if in a dream, he reached forward and lifted it up, standing on shaky legs, and moved towards the living room. His body was working its way towards the living room, and his eyes, stretched wide and seemingly unable to relax, tracking the splatters of blood that served as a pathway. Then he was there, standing with the carpet warm and welcomingly soft between his bare toes, the couch looking plush and welcoming. It couldn't have been more than a half hour ago, not even. He sank onto the middle cushion, and, with shaking hands, opened the computer's lid wider.

Yes. She was still there, waiting.

**Me: **_he left_

**Bebe: **_okay_

**Me: **_i can't go with..._

_i just..._

_i can't_

**Bebe: **_He'll make it._

_He'll MAKE IT._

**Me: **_he actually tried to KILL himsef..._

_the officer told me he hasn't much time..._

**Bebe: **_okay._

_I know this has been a lot harder than it should have..._

**Me: **_yeah… it has been..._

**Bebe: **_but after this...well..._

**Me: **_well what?_

_I know what he's gonna do..._

**Bebe: **_things will be SO much better._

_okay?_

**Me: **_i...yeah, sure_

**Bebe: **_okay._

**Me:**_ this_

_i_

_um..._

**Bebe: **_yeah?_

**Me: **_I know what he's gonna do when he gets better..._

**Bebe: **_what?_

**Me: **_things..._

**Bebe: **_if you think he's going to hurt you again..._

**Me: **_i-i don't want you to call the police..._

**Bebe: **_okay, here._

_Don't be passive._

_Go with it._

_Stop fighting, and it won't be rape._

_like I said..._

_it's not if you enjoy it._

_so..._

_WILL you enjoy it?_

_I mean, there's rape and then there's sex._

_and I think he wants the latter._

**Me:**_ I suppose...the...you see...ok...so, Craig is problem child. He tends to get drunk… he drinks a lot. I hide his booze but when i do he gets mad at me. When he's pissed off, he likes to hurt things...I have bruises & scars all over me..._

**Bebe: **_you need to help him get better._

**Me: **_I have tried...but I am used to it._

_ever since I have known him I have been trying_

**Bebe: **_keep trying._

_it's no way for him to live his life._

**Me: **_I know..._

_I am always afraid for him..._

**Bebe: **_for him, or of him?_

**Me: **_I KNOW what he says to people_

_..._

_honest answer?_

_...of him...always have been..._

**Bebe: **_yeah_

_and you still are?_

**Me: **_...yeah_

**Bebe: **_well, if you still love him..._

_all I can say is, I need you to help him_

_and then, hopefully, it'll pass_

**Me: **_I have been helping him since fourth grade._

_We are in high school now_

**Bebe: **_Just keep helping him._

_Keep going._

**Me: **_I am...to be honest...the ONE thing I'm afraid of most is..._

_him breaking my heart_

**Bebe: **_he loves you, I promise, and I don't think that's going to change._

**Me: **_He's the only one who understands me... one day he will meet his match, & more than likely get married_

**Bebe: **_I think he's already met his match._

**Me: **_...oh..._

Oh. _Oh. _Well… what was there to say to that? Tweek turned his head slightly to gaze out the window. The last drops of rain were falling, but this was a refreshing, cleansing wash. The storm was gone. The hospital wasn't far… maybe he wouldn't have to stay here alone tonight, like he'd been thinking. Maybe he could go there. Wait at Craig's bedside while he recovered.

She was probably right. There wouldn't be any more after this. Any more abuse, any more rape. It could be done now. It seemed to be, before. Everything that was broken could be fixed, couldn't it? There was no rush. They had time. Endless time, boundless time.

He sat back, sighing, wiping away the tears that still coated his cheeks. _It's over now. This part. Things can begin again. _A smile tickled his lips—not one that could be fully formed, but a weary, nervously hopeful sort of expression. A promise of something more.

**Bebe: **_Tweek, I really don't have anything left to say...but, well, good luck. And tell me if anything happens?_

**Me: **_I-you're leaving?_

**Bebe: **_Yes, I do have to_

**Me: **_oh..._

**Bebe: **_just keep trying?_

_promise?_

**Me: **_I-I will be online tomorrow!_

**Bebe: **_:) so will I._


	16. Shameless Advertising by the Authoress

**Helloooooooooo~!**

My apologies for dragging anyone on Story Alert back to this old dump, but I have a request of you lot. The semi-sequelish thing that I mentioned earlier has made its appearance, though it is in all ways a _semi-_sequelish thing, and it doesn't directly follow the events of this story. However, it is based on the same RP that inspired this one, meaning that the general dynamic between the three central characters (Craig, Tweek, and Bebe) is much the same, though tailored slightly so that it can be made standalone. Its biggest difference (aside from length- it's twice as long as this one in total ;D) is that the main-main character is none other than Kenny. He gets dragged into it all, and, well, things happen. Just let me say that Crenny and Twenny both become involved, though the Creek is still there, worry not. ANYWAYS, it has four chapters up and a dismal total of two reviews as well as zero favorites. Seeing as I think the story's actually pretty decent- better than this one, even- that's a bit heartbreaking for me, as the poor authoress. **  
><strong>

So I was wondering if any of you kind readers would possibly give the story a try and perhaps a review (I never beg for favorites; that's just ridiculous). I will warn you that it's a LOT more deserving of its M rating than this one- and when I say that, I mean explicit smut scenes. There, I warned you. But, in any case, this isn't a demand, just a request, as stated above. If you're interested, just head over to my profile and check out the story "Mad World," it should be around the top since I updated it recently. Thank you so much!

xx Thisby


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